For the past few months, I’ve been thinking about the different sacrifices I have made throughout my life (so far) and the sacrifices I know I will have to make in the future. When I was a child, I did not like the idea of sacrifice because of the lens that I saw it through. I often saw certain themes related to sacrifice; I saw the women in my family sacrifice more than the men in my family. To be honest, I even believed that women should sacrifice more since we are the ones who are nurturers and mothers and wives. I couldn’t figure out why we seemed to have a heavier burden than men did, and I didn’t look forward to that being my future just because I was a woman.
As I got older, I intentionally put myself in positions where I would not have to sacrifice that much, and once I became independent I reveled in my power of not having to sacrifice as much as others did. In fact, the last substantial sacrifice I remember making before becoming independent was when I moved in with my maternal grandparents when my grandmother was in her middle stages of dementia, and my grandfather wanted to keep her at home. I moved in with them for about six months or so to help out with my grandmother‘s care, in addition to home health aids coming a few times a week. At that time my mama warned me not to move in with them, and it wasn’t because she didn’t believe that I was capable of helping, but because she knew how much I loved my grandmother and she knew I wasn’t ready for the emotional sacrifice of having to see her in a state of diminished capacity 24/7. She ended up being proven right; it was incredibly painful to see my granny lose her speech and her mobility and see my papa grieve the woman that he knew and the life that he was used to. We eventually moved my granny into a facility where she stayed for many years before she passed away.
While she was at her facility, I moved out and I’ve been out on my own ever since. Outside of church, spending time with my family, and my work obligations, I found myself not having to sacrifice much. I won’t say that I was selfish, because I’ve always had a generous heart and I love and support the people around me. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that independence allowed me to make decisions about who/what I sacrifice for vs it being required and/or forced on me. I enjoyed my own company and the autonomy of my own time. I did not have the responsibilities of being a wife or mother, and I promised myself that any sacrifices I made in the future would be my own choice. I wondered what would happen as my parents got older and if they became ill, but I talked with my brother about it and we both agreed that we would both step up when that time came.
But then I was confronted with the idea of sacrifice being non-optional, and that is when my paternal granny passed away. At her homegoing service, different family members shared about how much she sacrificed for her many brothers and sisters, uncles, and cousins. She was a woman who thought of her family first and who did everything she could to support her loved ones. While I was grateful to hear her spoken of so highly and celebrated, I couldn’t help but wonder what happened to her own dreams and desires. I wondered if she had any unspoken regrets, or if she ever felt feelings of resentment that she never spoke out loud.
I have a tradition in my family that is not spoken out loud, but one that has been a repeated pattern, and that tradition is the single woman in the family becoming the primary caretaker for their elderly family member. I’ve seen this play out throughout my life, and I have a fear that I will follow in the footsteps of this tradition. I use the word fear cautiously because caring for my elders is not something I am afraid of; it’s the way the care is done that I don’t want to mimic. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family and I have every intention to honor my parents and to care for them the way they have cared for me. But I want to care for my family and not sacrifice my own well-being in the process, and not sacrifice my own dreams and desires. I’ll be honest and say that I don’t know if this is what will happen. I don’t know if I will repeat the cycle, and that uncertainty brings a lot of emotions, and I will honor them.
When I think about decisions that I am currently making about my future, my career, and even my retirement and things of that nature, I admit that I am not just thinking about myself anymore. My parents are in their 60s, and I think about them. My grandpa is 85, and I think about him. While I am not an only child, my brother is married with his own family, and I have to acknowledge that. I am single with no family of my own, and I don’t know when and how that might change. If I were 26 again, I would probably pick up and move and do all kinds of adventurous things. And while I’m still young at 36, life is different. There are now realities that I see in my parents and my family that I feel like I need to be here for. That’s why I called this blog the maturation of sacrifice, because maybe the way that I have seen and perceived sacrifice needs to mature.
Under no circumstances have I arrived at total peace with sacrifice. God is still going to have to work on my heart concerning the fears I have about the future. But one thing I do know is that I’m not going to give up on my own dreams and desires. Life is moving incredibly fast and time is the only thing that we can never get back. I don’t want to have any more regrets with the time I have left.
For all the people who have to sacrifice and who don’t have a choice in the why, the how, or the how long, I see you. Most importantly, God sees you. I believe that no desire or dream is ignored by God. He sees all of it, and He sees all of you.
See y’all next week~
The Obedience Diaries 