The short answer I give is… “yep” with a smile.
The long answer I want to give is…
Not really. I mean, I carried and birthed all four of them. I am the legal guardian of all four of them. I am responsible for all four of them.
But they aren’t mine, and I try not to think of them as such.
They are complete individuals with body, soul, and spirit. They are God’s children, His people. He put them in our family to train into adulthood.
But they aren’t mine.
Thoughts and words are powerful. They are the seeds of feelings and behaviors, both conscious and not. They can uplift, encourage, glorify, and exalt. They can also sow discontentment, resentment, and discouragement.
Thinking that my children are mine, I believe, has the potential to give me the illusion of control. But I am not in control of them or their futures. It’s true, I set the schedule and habits and expectations for our family. But, ultimately, God is in control of their lives, not me. When we buy into that illusion of control, it typically ends in resentment and disappointment and despair when our expectations and hopes are not met.
That’s why I don’t like calling them mine.
But that’s an awfully long conversation for Aisle 5 in Walmart over a half-full cart with a stranger, you know?