Sacrifice

I was challenged today by my pastor to rethink my view on sacrifice. I guess for my whole life I'd assumed that a sacrifice was something you just did because you wanted to accomplish a goal in your life. It seemed to me to be something you just grit your teeth and do. Most of the time I wasn't happy about doing it, I just wanted to see something happen.

But as a Christ follower, what does it really mean to sacrifice? Is it this same idea --- we do it because we're supposed to, so we can please God or achieve some other spiritual goal? It's hard therefore it must be spiritual. Seems like I've mostly achieved feeling resentful about the sacrifice. Have you ever felt that way?

Well, my pastor painted me a picture of true sacrifice as having been done out of love not fear. He challenged me to think about how often I am actually willing to sacrifice something, not out of guilt or shame, but because I am truely thankful for what God has done and/or who God is in my life. When's the last time I WANTED to sacrifice something? I don't honestly know the answer to that question. I like to think I sacrifice for my family and for my ministry without expecting something back, that I am giving out of the goodness of my heart, but upon reflection I don't know if that's always the case. I think there is still a part of me that wants my sacrifice to be recognized, how much I'm giving up, how hard it is for me, so that it will be properly appreciated. I wonder how often I do this to God? --- "Lord, look at all the stuff I'm giving up for you, I hope you're keeping track because it's really hard and I'd like to get some extra credit here!"

I was really convicted by my pastor's challenge to view a sacrifice as something I'm willing to give up, not guilted into or coerced, but actually glad to do it. Not afraid that if I don't I'll lose credit with God. I'd like to think that sometimes I do this, for my family and for God. I guess my prayer is that I will do it more and more, "for the joy set before me", right?

Lord, help me to serve, love, and sacrifice as You do.

Do You Enjoy God?

I'm reading this book called Follow Me by Jan David Hettinga. He is writing about discipleship and what it means to follow Christ. He begins by describing what kind of a leader God is and then moves into why we tend to rebel. After explaining the kind of leader Christ is, he stops and asks a few questions for meditation. I was particularly struck by this one:

--- Do you enjoy God? Have you found Him to be approachable, likable, lovable? Do you appreciate the safety of His humility?

I don't know if I've really considered any of these questions lately. My walk lately has felt more like a march, one foot after the other, keepin' on keeping on. I don't know the last time I stopped to see whether or not God was approachable or likable, I guess I've been too busy "working". Why is that? I serve a God that is gentle and humble in heart, who promises rest for my soul, who says He'll never leave me or forsake me. I guess the next question must be, do I believe that? As Hettinga says, do I appreciate the safety of His humility? In short, probably not. I am stuck in the mindset that leaders serve their own ends, they go after their own agendas, why in the world would I trust them with my innermost thoughts or feelings much less my brokenness? Isn't that weakness? Won't that get me in trouble, or at least send me down a couple rungs on the ladder? Those are some of the thoughts and questions that inevitably run through my mind...

But when I read about Jesus, when I hear His words in the gospels, something in my heart begins to beat faster and compels me to move closer. I must admit there is this powerful urge to step in close, like the bleeding woman, and just touch the hem of his cloak. Even that, I believe, even that would heal me, would satisfy my deepest desire. There is this overwhelming desire to just blurt it all out, all my fears, my hurts, my hopes, all the things that I lie in bed at night going over and over in my mind. So, maybe I do appreciate the safety of His humility, perhaps I just don't take advantage of it enough.