OUT TO PASTOR: Whatever happened to “My Space?”

When I was young, one of my life priorities was “My Space.” 

I defended it with everything I had.

At school, I even had to go several times to the principal’s office and explain what “My Space” was all about.

He didn’t seem to understand, and I had to explain it.

At home with my siblings, I had to define the parameters of “My Space.” Even though I explained it to them several times, they never seemed to get it.

Their idea, and I do not know where it came from, was that “My Space” was “Their Space.”

No matter how often I explained it to them, they never seemed to understand what I was discussing.

One of the great privileges of moving away from home was that I could now defend “My Space” without any interference from anyone.

I can’t tell you how much I enjoyed that freedom.

I had to move my office somewhere when I retired from the church. I had close to 10,000 books, so I needed somewhere to put them. So, we added an office space to our home. It cost some money, but it was a way of establishing “My Space.”

Fortunately, The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage supervised the construction of my retirement office.

When it was finished, I was so happy to see my books on the bookshelves in my new “My Space” office at the house.

I could enter the door of my office, sit at my desk, and be all alone to do what I wanted.

Sometimes, I sit behind my desk and look around at all the books in my office. Except for Bible commentaries and dictionaries, I have read every book in my library. Some I have read several times. And I know just about where I got every one of them. They are the occupants of “My Space.”

Then something happened, violating “My Space.”

The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage babysits our great-granddaughter while our granddaughter is working. 

We’ve had our great-granddaughter for about two years now. She’s 2 1/2 years old and has more energy than a troop of monkeys at a zoo.

If I had half her energy, I would accomplish a lot in life. Just watching her energy drains me of the little energy I have.

In the mornings, I like to watch the news on TV before starting the day. Halfway through watching the news, the great-granddaughter arrives for the day.

She will come into the living room, jump on the couch, and say, “Papaw – George.”

I’ve realized that when she says that, she wants to watch a program called Curious George, a TV cartoon for children.

For some reason, she believes she can turn the TV to the program she wants to watch, regardless of what I’m watching.

Who gave her the right to “My Space” TV?

At lunchtime, The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage will have my lunch plate in the refrigerator for me to pick up. I will come to the kitchen, pick up my lunch plate, sit in my chair, and watch the news at noon.

It’s my time to relax and enjoy lunch.

Just as I’m beginning to eat my lunch, the little great-granddaughter will come to me and take things off of my plate for herself. 

Being a great-grandfather, I cannot say that word with two letters – “NO.”

Who gave her the right to “My Space” lunch?

I don't know whether she understands I can’t say that word, or maybe she’s just playing me with a cute little giggle, a smile, and puppy eyes.

As far as she is concerned, “My Space” is also “Her Space.” Where she got that idea, I will never know. I’m suspicious that maybe she was born with it, or perhaps her great-grandmother taught her how to do it.

In any case, “My Space” has been thoroughly violated. I’m beginning to think the only time I will restore “My Space” is when they put me in my coffin and drop me in the grave.

Pondering this the other day, I wondered how or if it was possible to regain “My Space.” What must I do to establish the perimeters that will separate me from everybody else?

I remember reading I the Psalms verses that support my idea of “My Space”. David said in Psalm 91:1-4: “He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and buckler.”

If I am under the “shadow of the Almighty”, nobody can ever compromise my safety. I don’t have to worry about my situation because I am not defined by that. I am defined by my abiding under the shadow of the Almighty. If you can compromise the “Almighty” then I’ll worry, but not before. Good luck with that.

Dr. James L. Snyder lives in Ocala, Florida with the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage. Telephone is (352) 216-3025, e-mail is jamessnyder51@gmail.com, and his website is www.jamessnyderministries.com.