Embracing the Cost

There is something that has been plaguing me at various times over recent months. It first started one day a few months ago as I was walking into work. Kafui, our eldest daughter, had been sick for several days with some sort of virus and I had just dropped her off for her first day back at daycare. She was not 100% well, but she was 80% of her normal gregarious self. I vividly remember the feeling of just wanting to be home and care for her, not send her to someone else's house. (though Coco, her daycare lady, loves Kafui and Jesus and we love and appreciate Coco dearly too!) I remember that feeling being followed with this honest, fleshly thought. "Compared to my daughter, I don't really care about these people I am going in to take care of. If I could make the choice, I would choose her over them anyday."

Now, maybe that's not what you want your nurse to be thinking when you're in the hospital, but that was/is the truth. Kafui is my daughter. I love her with a love that I could never have fathomed before and my desire to protect and care for her is unrivaled. I would choose caring for her over any other person in the world. I would not give her life for any patient I've ever had or ever will have.

And yet, immediately following that thought, came the still small voice of our tender King and Lord. "But I gave my Son for you who were my enemy." Oh my. What do I do with this? Can I begin to fathom a God who laid down the life of His own Son for evil, selfish, God-rebelling creatures like you and me? No. I cannot. In my flesh, I guarantee you I would never do the same.

That day at work, I reflected on the cost that God the Father endured to save ones like us. I reflected on the pain it must have cost Him, the overwhelming grief He must have endured to watch His Son be crushed, to see His wrists and feet pierced and the blood flow down that cross to redeem a wretched people who hours and minutes before had spit in his face and mocked him. Who is this God? Does He call His people, by His power, to mirror this depth of sacrifice?

Recently, both of our daughter have been sick. I have found myself stricken with worry and fear, praying many a prayer for their healing, restoration, and comfort. I have wanted to lock our home and forbid entrance to anyone who does not go through a full battery of lab tests to make sure they do not introduce new bacteria or viruses into our environment. And in this fear, I hear that same still small voice. "What will you willingly risk sacrificing for the good news of my gospel to be made known?" Will I invite people into my home to share the Lord's hospitality, share the gospel, and make Jesus famous even if it means risking the health of my children? Will I take in sick, lost, and dying people and love them by laying down my children for the sake of the Gospel? Now, of course this does not mean that I deliberately risk my children's lives. I have been called to be a mother and God's callings are not contradictory. He has called me to love, protect, and bless my children. BUT, when the choice comes to minister no matter the risk, will I choose as Abraham did and lay my children down, knowing the Lord himself will provide the ram? Or, will I set aside the opportunity to see the Lord's miraculous work out of fear for what it may cost me?

Last Sunday, we dedicated our youngest daughter, Essime, with our local church. The night before, the Lord led us to a song by Michael Card called Wordless Ones. The lyrics are as follows:

Hopeless yet so full of hope
We’re making a solemn vow
Not knowing when their time will come
Not even knowing how
Though it seems we try and make
A promise that is true
We really only claim for them
A promise that is You

In your loving arms we lay
These wordless ones so new
The incarnation of our love
We dedicate to you

The holy sleep that falls so deep
The blessing from above
Will now embrace our little one
In simple trusting love
We offer you this child
Who’s only ours for just a while
How could we keep her back from you?
When you gave your only child

In your loving arms we lay
These wordless ones so new
The incarnation of our love
We dedicate to you

Charles and I sang this for her dedication, and as much as these words are the cry of my Spirit-filled temple, they are also the scream of my clinging flesh. I need serious prayer. May I love our children with all the love of Christ and yet love Christ so deeply that I will acknowledge daily that "anyone who comes to [Christ] and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters— yes, even their own life—cannot be [his] disciple."

Lord, show us the love that led you to send your beloved Son to face suffering and death to redeem us in our wretchedness. May there be nothing, including our dearest friends, family, children, that keep us from following you into your harvest field. May we, like Abraham, trust your promises and know that just as you rescued Isaac and raised the Christ physically from the dead, our children are safe in your good hands.