You know of the straw that broke the camel’s back? Well in my experience it was two kittens who broke my heart. I arrived at cross-cultural training on the first day of this month, wide-eyed and naïve about how purely good my time would be, meeting other missionaries and learning about the field, not recognizing that my lack of joy (see last month’s blog, "My Glinda Moment") may turn into sorrow. And yet that is exactly what happened, thanks to two foster kittens…
It sounds so silly – and I have struggled to admit it – that the breaking point of my heart was two tiny animals that I always knew would only stay with me for a few weeks. And yet, once at training, I found myself weeping over the thought of leaving them behind and knowing that I would never see them again.
As much as my heart hates to admit it, those kittens probably did not have a huge sense of betrayal; they probably have since been adopted into a long-term home and don’t have any sense that they were ‘abandoned’ – they’re only cats after all. But my heart was so hung up on this idea that I had abandoned them. My heart was overwhelmed with this sorrow of leaving something/someone behind to whom I would never be reconnected.
Maybe you’re catching on to the reality of the situation faster than I did – my sorrow over leaving home, family, and life as I have always known it was being experienced through my leaving the kittens. They, while I am sad to have left them, were not the deepest cause of sorrow in my heart.
Honestly, I don’t know if I could boil everything down to one cause. There is so much that is left behind in this transition and it all piles up and up and up, until the only thing I can pinpoint is what sits on top – and that was the kittens.
Praise the Lord, I am no longer mourning the loss of those kittens but have moved on to be able to identify and mourn the other things that will be lost in this transition.
That sounds healthy. But what I learned on day one was that my understanding itself was faulty. I will continue to fall into deep sorrow and perpetual mourning if I always consider the things left behind as “lost.” When I do so, I consider myself a passive victim of the situation and that is simply not true – I said yes.
I chose to follow the Lord into this life of ministry in a foreign nation. I have chosen to let go of the things I know and to step into what is new and unknown. And so, I am not passively losing things as I go to the field; rather, I am sacrificing them. I am an active participant who counts the cost and chooses to continue in obedience to the Lord’s call, seeking His will first in every instance of letting go and grabbing hold.
This makes all the difference in my heart and mind. In sacrifice, I am empowered to ascribe value to the things being sacrificed and to mourn them with dignity. I do not need to ‘get over’ the sadness I feel because the people, places, and things are lost and that’s just the way it is. By nature of sacrificing my life among the people I love in the place I love, I testify to their immense value and the recognition of their values makes the sorrow a bit more bearable.
And that is the place I sit now, bearing the sorrow. Unfortunately, understanding that I am sacrificing rather than losing does not negate the felt experience of the sacrifice. It still hurts. It still weighs on my heart and mind. But I can endure the feeling of sorrow because I know the reason for my sacrifice.
That’s the other thing about sacrifice – you don’t do it for no reason. You probably lose things for no reason; losing is often on accident or out of our control and so we don’t have a purpose behind it. But the choice to sacrifice is made with a specific purpose in mind; “I will sacrifice this so that…”
I will sacrifice my life in the States so that I can follow the Lord’s direction.
I will sacrifice living in Colorado so that I can serve the people of Spain.
I will sacrifice seeing my family and friends often so that I can see the body of Christ increase.
And on and on and on!
What is gained by these sacrifices makes it worth it. If nothing else, I will sacrifice all my life and more to be obedient to God. For He is God, not me. What’s more is that He is good! In Him is life and restoration and joy. He is the greatest thing to gain. The only thing worth gaining.
This neither means that He is the only good thing I’ll ever have in this life, nor that He will give me all the comfort and enjoyment I could imagine. It does mean that I have all that I need and so I can be content in any circumstance, whether in lack or abundance.
As I am writing, these Scriptures come to mind:
For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul? Mark 8:36
I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. Philippians 4:12
But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. Matthew 6:33
There is nothing on earth that I desire besides You. Psalm 73:25b
Thankfully I do have some idea of what is gained by my sacrifice, I am not going in completely blind. I am sacrificing the things of my life so to pursue the expansion of the Kingdom of God. That is worth it. That is something that will last for eternity, whereas my life on this earth most definitely will not.
And so, I can be content in my sorrow. I am not a victim in some great game God is playing where I come out the loser; I have opted in, chosen to say yes to this crazy life of cross-cultural ministry, and so choose to sacrifice living among many things and people I love. My active choice does not negate the pain that accompanies my sacrifice, but it does comfort me in that pain and remind me of the hope that I have.
Praise be to the God of hope!