It is not what we take up, but what we give up, that makes us rich. Henry Ward Beecher
I have a friend who walked a hard road. With starry eyes we jumped on a plane to see the world, but a few months later she flew home alone. On a sunny morning in a dusty backpacker’s hotel in London a simple test revealed that she was facing a very different future to the future we had planned. If I had been in her shoes I may well have exercised my right to choose as the alternative seemed unbearable. Yet my friend was rock solid in her decision. She knew what she had to do.
Twenty years later we drink coffee and reflect on our lives since then. My friend was never one to take short-cuts. She laughs as she remembers walking to the front of a church to take communion, slim and normal-looking from behind, but with a large baby-bump up front. When she took the bread and wine and turned to return to her seat she heard the congregation gasp. But she never considered remaining in her seat, consumed by shame and fear.
Over the years she has adored her son who has been surrounded by a loving family, in differing forms. She has worked hard to maintain good relationships with his natural father and grandparents, as well as with her husband and younger sons. Always looking out for her son’s welfare, she never complains and never has regrets. Now he is an adult, she graciously gives him his freedom, and lets him find his way in life. I admire my friend enormously. She has shown me what sacrifice looks like in real life.
How often do we value an act of sacrifice? As I silently observe the conversations in cafes, the chaotic lives portrayed in our news and current affairs programs, and the brash, competitive nature of so many television sitcoms, I see the golden calf of success, ambition and popularity sitting smugly on the altar of our hearts. This golden calf scoffs at selflessness and implies that to sacrifice is to be weak, a doormat, and a loser.
Yet I’ve noticed that something strange happens to people when they hit middle age. The cute curves of youth become swaying tuck-shop arms and boom-bah thighs. The girl who was once the life of the party becomes a slave to addiction. Another pretty girl with a flirtatious nature turns into a bitter woman with two broken marriages and several failed affairs. The guy who enjoyed the good things in life is now greedy, cruel, full of pretension and pride. The carefree soul with a free spirit who could never commit is now isolated and alone. Middle age is often the crucible for our hearts and the golden calf we secretly feed looms large and threatens to devour us.
I think of Jesus the night before he was betrayed and killed. He was distraught and went to pray and be alone as he grappled with his fate. He asked his closest friends to stay awake and pray for him for an hour. Not a big ask in the circumstances, however, when he returned they had all fallen asleep. After two more attempts, he gave up and they continued snoring. They let him down when he really needed them. He also knew that when he was arrested they would abandon him and run away. One of his best mates, Peter, would deny even knowing him to a servant girl. None of them would sacrifice even an hour’s sleep for their dear friend who was about to sacrifice his life for them.
When I read that story about Jesus I am reminded of the frailty of our human nature, but also of the value God places on sacrifice. Although most of us are inept in this area, God doesn’t give up on us. The disciples, with all their fears and foibles, went on to learn what sacrifice was all about and to live powerful and loving lives, willing to face death themselves for their faith. When Jesus offered the ultimate sacrifice and put to death that golden calf of selfishness, he showed them, and us, how to live just as he did.
The attitude of sacrifice is a quality that separates the boys from the men, the cowards from the heroes and the quitters from the winners. For many, like my friend, there will be no marching band or shiny trophy as a reward for her private acts of sacrifice, but there will be the contentment and peace of a life well lived. I believe an invisible army of angels surround her, smiling and rejoicing, and one day they will welcome her into a new home where all that she surrendered in this life will be returned to her in abundance.
Like Jesus we belong to the world living not for ourselves but for others. The joy of the Lord is our strength. Mother Teresa
This is just what I needed to read today, to encourage me that the easy way is not the way for me.
thank you for this and for being here.
xx
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So glad you got something from this post, Viv. I cried all the way through writing it, and I often wonder if anyone out there really gets what I’m raving on about! Stay strong, and keep climbing along that rocky little path – even when the smooth highway looks so inviting. xx
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I think that it is hard for someone who doesn’t get the true messages of Jesus’ teachings to really grasp WHY people like us choose a certain way.
It’s been a recent lesson for me.
bless you.
x
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I wonder with sacrifice whether it still occurs, only it is silent. It’s the quiet acts that may go unnoticed to the crowds, but to an individual it echo’s so loudly. Even with your friend, the sacrifices she made were silent. She quietly made decisions and acted upon them. As you say, there was no fan fare, and there was possibly much rejection and ridicule, however the impact that her quiet and resilient choices have made have impacted the lives of many around her.
I wonder sometimes whether it’s the things we do in secret, or in quiet that make the loudest noise both good and bad?
Sacrifice takes courage and a love that knows no bounds, that can see through the crap to the heart of others and respond, knowing the cost, but doing responding anyway.
A very powerful piece of writing Kerry, as is the story of your friend.
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I guess it all comes down to who we are trying to please & what we see as the purpose for our lives. I like the idea you raised of what we do in secret, or in quiet, making the loudest noise for good or bad. Thanks again for reading (not that I give you any choice) 🙂
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I think the hardest part about contemplating a sacrifice is the risk that it may not even be appreciated by the recipient. I know that has held me back more than once. But the important part is the act of sacrifice, not the result. This is what makes Jesus’ ultimate act of sacrifice so amazing–He already knew that many would reject Him, but He went to the cross anyway. That blows me away.
This is one of your very best posts, for sure!
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Thanks Tracy! Yes, the hardest part certainly is the risk of not being appreciated and I guess that’s what makes it such a brave & powerful way of being. I’m often challenged by my own writing & I’ve certainly been reflecting a lot after writing this post. The more I get to know Jesus the more he amazes me too – so much wisdom, beauty & love & you can’t just observe that and not respond to it.
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