"Own your life!" the podcaster told me while I was standing in a kitchen full of dirty dishes. It makes sense. I can't change everything about me and I dislike the feeling of dissatisfaction.
I agree that comparison is the chief thief of joy but I still do it. I am planning on doing less of it tough. When I quit comparing, I'm left with all I have. I have real love, health and friendships. If I didn't have anything else, this would be plenty.
Owning my life means that I can tackle those dirty dishes. They'll get dirty again but I can own it. Life right now looks like this: a mother and her little ones, enjoying life for what it is.
Owning my life means that I can run with the body I have. This exact same body, the one that took me through 4 marathon finish lines, one half marathon and countless other races, will take me through other finish lines successfully. It doesn't matter what others think, what matters is that I own my body and I am completely content with who I am, where I am.
Owning my life means that I can rely on God for comfort when unanswered prayer requests cloud my mind. I have a pretty good idea on how He could answer every prayer I pray. Still, I have a pretty good idea that God is sovereign and He is also good. I can rely on Him to offer me comfort when answers don't come as I'd like. I can be assured that if answers don't come at all, it's for my good.
I find that I can breath easier as I do this "own your life" thing. It sure is more peaceful than living under the pressure of dissatisfaction.
The day the podcaster told me to own my life, I was trying to get out of the door but I had to feed my kids first. I decided that my "owned" life included muffins, so I baked. I looked at my flowers and I smelled my scented candle. If I'm going to own my life, it's going to be on my own terms. My terms include flowers, candles, muffins and plenty love to go around my house. I pilled more dirty dishes on the sink and walked out.