Separation & Sacrifice

I have been doing a lot of reading and thinking about the Christian life in recent weeks. In my quest to nail down the basics of what it looks like to live the life God intended for each of us. There are a handful of experts who have written books and given talks on the subject, and I've been trying to glean as much knowledge from them as possible. But there is one thing that they all seem to miss: sacrifice.

I cannot say with certainty that sacrifice is something we are meant to make an effort to achieve, like pursuing justice or living in loving community. And, I definitely want to distance myself from any theory that defines our relationship with God by what we don't do. However, I am beginning to see that we cannot live an authentic, Christ filled existence without some level of sacrifice.

Today, I have lived fully in the midst of my sacrifice, losses I knew were coming, and yet painful all the same.

First, as scheduled, my brother had heart surgery: a stressful experience regardless. But it was somehow harder knowing that my family was gathered around him and I was not. Now the neurotic in me wanted to be there because, deep down inside, I feel if something were to go wrong I could jump in and solve the problem, but if it all went pear-shaped without me, how would they fix it? (Ridiculous I realize, but I'm sure a feeling you can relate to.) But there was also a profound sense of loss and isolation, knowing that my family were sharing a significant experience that I cannot participate in. I've just heard that the surgery went well, and at this point my life-saving skills needn't be called upon, for which I am truly grateful.

However, another event is taking place that I will be absent for as well. My grandfather, who has been on hospice care since Christmas, fell and broke his pelvis two days ago and has been in the hospital since then. My grandmother received a call from the doctors today telling her that the end was very close. So he'll be with the Lord very soon. As sad as it is for me, it does not come as a profound shock, and in some ways it is a mercy. But now I will miss the funeral of a man I deep love and admire. Once again, the life I have been called to will keep me away from a significant family event, one I want to participate in.

So why do it? Why continue to serve God in the way that I do when I know that this is the cost? It is days like today that remind me that worship is not just something we do by singing a few songs on Sunday. It is offering to God that which we hold most dear; it is pouring out libations of blood that cost us something.