No woman was ever more independent than I. Until my marriage I had a good job and enjoyed a carefree life that centered on good clothes and the ownership of a car. Even though I was a Christian and could have talked about the lordship of Christ, I really didn’t know what it meant. (In fact, I have learned that I really don’t know any verse of Scripture until I have lived it.)

When, at 27, I was married to Russell Hitt and moved from Detroit to Chicago, I couldn’t wait to get back to work again. In less than a month I had found a new job in an advertising agency. But when children came, I was soon trapped (so I thought) in the less glamorous chores of washing diapers and preparing formulas. Back in my mind there always lurked the hope I’d be freed from these humdrum tasks and would return to a real job. If anyone at that juncture had suggested that women are to be “keepers of the home,” I’m sure I’d have flared up and argued that the four walls of home were making me a prisoner. (Don’t quote verses to me.)

About this time I was also challenged by another possibility—hosting a neighborhood Bible class. At first I argued with God about this, but slowly, ever so slowly, I began to submit to this opportunity. One New Year’s Eve, I surrendered with these words, “Lord, if you don’t want me to have a job, then I don’t want one. And if you want me to start this neighborhood Bible class, then that’s what I want.”

My obedience to God did not include submission to my husband. I did not tell him about my spiritual struggle. I knew he wasn’t eager for me to take a job. But it was enough to give in to God without giving in to Russell, too!

As I look back on that experience, I realize that I was beginning to comprehend the principle of submission—both to the Lord and to my husband. It opened up new vistas of freedom for me and a life of fulfillment.

I recognize that economic necessity forces many wives to seek employment these days. I am sure God knows all about such situations. But for me it was important to follow the course I took. We have never lacked the necessities of life with only one breadwinner for the household. Maybe after 42 years of marriage I have mellowed a little, too—not quite so independent.

Just last summer while we were vacationing in New England, the ongoing truth of submission was illustrated. One of the glass apothecary jars of a kitchen set used to store flour, sugar, coffee, and tea had cracked. The jagged edges of the cracked coffee jar became a real hazard. Russell said: “Lillian, you need to replace that jar.” I thought to myself: “And where do you expect me to find one of those when kitchen accessories now are all modern?”

My only hope was that I might find one in an antique shop somewhere. As we drove through the delightful Connecticut countryside, there were dozens of signs that proclaimed “antiques.” But Russell—as though he hadn’t heard me—pressed harder on the accelerator. (Oh well, maybe Russell will cut his hand on the old jar.)

One day when we stopped in Boothbay Village, Maine, to pick up a New York Times, I saw a sign announcing a bam sale. To my surprise, my husband said, “Why don’t you go and look. I’ll get my paper and meet you there later.”

I rushed into the bam and—would you believe it?—there was my apothecary jar on a table not ten feet from the door. Just one jar—not the flour, sugar, or tea size—but the coffee jar I needed. And only $2.00!

Without arguing about the theology of submission and headship or whether Russell was right or wrong about speeding by the antique shops, I learned and lived another lesson in that small incident.

I wonder how many adventures like that one I’ve missed because of my independent spirit. At least for once I had submitted and experienced the full and rich life God can give when we do it his way.

LILLIAN HITTMrs. Hitt is a homemaker and Bible teacher from Merion Station, Pennsylvania.

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