Last month Billie turned sixteen and passed his driver exam
with flying colors. His parents let him borrow the car from time to time to run
errands or to go see his friends. He enjoyed the freedom being able to drive
gave him. This opened up a whole new world of opportunity.
Billie asked a girl he liked at school out to go see a
movie. Much to his horror she said yes and they planned to go see a film that
Friday night. Billie was exuberant as he rushed home from school. He begged his
mother to use the car that night. He was disappointed to learn that his mother
already had plans and would need the car. He was granted the use of dad’s
“car” instead – a 1978 Oldsmobile Cutlass affectionately called “The
Deathmobile”.
Billie was horrified. He couldn’t be seen in that old thing.
What would this girl think? But left with the choice of the Deathmobile or
nothing the Deathmobile would have to do. Maybe he could clean it up a bit. He
called his good friend, Charles, to come and help.
First they gave it a good washing. No matter how hard they
scrubbed they couldn’t get the faded maroon paint to shine. The solution was to
get out the paint roller and give it a fresh coat of semi-gloss black. The rims
were next on the list. They added a set of chrome spinners Charles brother was
saving. He wouldn’t notice they were gone. The car only had an AM/FM radio in
it so Billie wired in a boom box with CD player. To top it off he added a
nine-foot whip antenna on the back. Now here was a car he could drive around in
with pride.
His father wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic when he got home
and saw what Billie had done to his car. Livid I think was the word later used
to describe how he reacted. What Billie failed to understand was that the car
did not belong to him. He didn’t have free reign to do what he wanted just
because he got to use the car. It was only on loan to him and his father wanted
the car back in the way he lent it.
Visit any woman’s “rights” demonstration and you will see signs
held in pride and defiance all over the place that read, “My Body – My Choice”.
It is one of their strongest arguments to keep abortion legal. It is my body.
Who are you to tell me that I can’t have a medical procedure done to it if I
desire it to be done? As with all the arguments the devil puts in our heads
this appears to be full of logic and rational thinking, but only on the
surface.
No man ever created himself. Each and every person was
created by God. Seeing he created us we belong to him and not to ourselves. We
do not have dominion over our bodies. We are allowed to use them for a time and
then they go back to the one who created them. The only thing that is truly
ours, the only thing that we have free reign to do with what we will, is our
will.
Yet, like Billie, most of us are under a false impression
that our bodies belong to us. We do all kinds of strange and bizarre things to
these bodies. It began with simple things like piercings and body art. Now we
are to the point where we can deny the truth of our chromosomes and choose what
gender or race we want to be. If I am not happy being an old, white guy I can
choose to be am African-American woman and even go as far as to alter my body
to give the appearance that is what I truly am. After all, it’s my body – my choice.
Who has the right to say that I am wrong? Well, the guy who has rightful claim
to this body does I guess.
Luckily, these bodies are only temporary. They give us a
chance to learn to be good stewards of what we have been given. One day these
bodies will fade away and be replaced with perfect, permanent, and glorified
bodies.
