As I was ruminating about the times we are living in, a little catchphrase was trickling into the stream of my thoughts. “Have it your way” and I had to do a little looking to confirm if it was a marketing strategy or if I had some things jumbled. No. It was a marketing campaign of Burger King in the ’70s. I found this on Hook Agency: Burger King came out with the slogan Have It Your Way in 1974. This slogan summed up its difference from its rival McDonald’s. The slogan fits well with the emphasis on pop culture and individuality. The line makes total sense at a time when self-expression and mass customization are critical elements of culture.

It was brilliantly insightful and has made a comeback in the last couple of years. During the middle of NFL games ( 22-23) with millions of viewers, the Royal Crispy Chicken Sandwich jingle went viral. The power of cultural influence is frightening.

I am the creator of my own life. I make the choices to have it my way in seemingly endless ways. My sandwich, my sexuality, my definition of family, my belief system, and the list goes on. There is no longer a moral cultural standard and I am a dinosaur. My frame of reference is no longer a consideration in many or dare I say most pockets of society, both here and abroad. 

My upbringing was one of structure and both healthy and unhealthy boundaries. Respect for those in authority was good and yet had some serious flaws when authority was not respecting the position represented. Family structure was a good thing at its best and had serious fault lines. Women were dominated and often in abusive relationships. Culture did not have any safe places for women to go and be heard, supported, and kept safe. My grandparents lived in a racially diverse community and yet, white privilege was everywhere. Our city, despite racial diversity, was upended when segregation ended or was supposed to. That, unfortunately, is ongoing. 

I was, what was called, a tomboy. I built forts in the snow and in the summertime. I played imaginary roles of being a cowboy and on other days I would pick up dolls and play with those as well. I was not considered strange or called names because of my interests. Don’t get me wrong, I was teased regularly. I was a chubby girl with glasses and that was usually all the ammunition needed. My brother did not play with dolls and I don’t think it occurred to me to ask. He was, as far as I know, exclusively interested in girls. That would have made a difference. 

In the 1970s, when Burger King came up with “having it your way”, my mom was an elementary school teacher. One of the other staff was a soft-spoken younger man. He did not have anywhere to go and be heard in a safe space. He did not have the cultural understanding that being same-sex attracted was okay. He took his life. Saying it was a tragedy seems like it’s sugarcoating how great a loss that was and that things like that shouldn’t have happened. But they did. Maybe having it his way would have been simply to have the freedom to be himself without having to hide. Maybe having it his way would be chatting with others in the teacher's lounge and not being afraid of saying the “wrong thing”. Having it his way he would not be accused of being a pedophile just because he was gay. I don’t know that he was accused of that, but I do know that the cultural norms of the day made some ridiculous assumptions. 

I am now taking a deep breath after realizing I’ve been holding it. How do I pull together “having it your way” and at the same time articulate the desire I have for others to know the freedom found only in Christ? I can have it my way according to my definition of what that is, and come up seriously empty and hollow. I’ve been there too, in a desperate attempt at filling a deep hole in my heart. “Does anyone see me?” “Does anyone even care how deeply I’m hurting and bleeding out on the inside?” I couldn’t, for the life of me, see at that point and time, that anyone did. Not the one I wanted to notice anyway. I desperately wanted my Dad to see me and care enough to stop me and save me from myself. I really didn’t want it my way. I wanted to be loved enough to be seen and know that I mattered enough to have him take the time for me. He didn’t and wouldn’t have known what to do if he had. He was broken and frantically trying to make his life go his way. 

It wasn’t until I met the lover of my soul that I began to understand having it my way wasn’t anything I even wanted. Jesus knew me then and knows me now. He loves me enough to see my deepest wounds and screw-ups and love me. He knows that there are times I still think having it my way is the best and continues to love me through it. He has been there at my worst, when I have sobbed until there were no tears left, and loves me. He wants the best, the very best for me, and many times, it doesn’t mean it’s my way. It is ultimately his way and that will always mean it’s the best way.

Becky on: May 25th, 2023 03:53pm

Why do I think my way is always better, when I know His way is the best?

C on: May 22nd, 2023 09:34pm

Everyone should be able to identify with your truthfulness. Each blog you do gives me pause and reflect on my need to keep my heart focused on my Creator, not on me. Praying for you always. He has commanded much of you. You know the refiners fire and I have never seen you reject the refiner. My heart has been opened even more, thank you.

Susan Kumba on: May 22nd, 2023 06:52pm

“Have it Your Way” No, I think not. May my prayer always be, “Have it His Way.”