“Amidst my list of blessings infinite, stands this foremost, that my heart has bled…” —Streams in the Desert, October 1

I turned twenty-one in 2011.

When I reflect on this year, I am humbled when I remember what our family went through. Like the above quote from Streams in the Desert, our hearts indeed bled profusely that year.

From April 2011 to October 2011, there were six life-changing events, of varying degrees.

In April, I broke up with my boyfriend, and while God supernaturally protected my heart, it was still emotional and upsetting at the time.

In June, my brother’s back injury reached a crisis moment that forged the faith of our family.

In July, my Grandpa committed suicide.

In August, my brother moved away to college, so for the first time in 18 years, we weren’t living under the same roof.

I also met my future husband (!!!)

And I began my senior year of college.

In October, one of my friends was killed in a car accident.

That is A LOT to process in a six-month time, and honestly, I’m still dealing with emotional wounds from that season eight years later.

But oh how did the Lord pour out his spirit on us during that time. All of those events, particularly my grandpa’s death, brought me to spiritual ground zero. Like plowing a field, this season tore through the soil of my heart, but the churning of soil was in preparation for a big harvest season just around the corner.

My only thing I could offer to the Lord was a sacrifice of pain.

Interestingly, I had written this a year prior:

Friday, September 3, 2010

“‘I will not offer burnt offerings to the Lord my God that cost me nothing.'” 2 Samuel 24:24

What does this mean in my life? What, if anything, has really and truly cost me? What has God given me to sacrifice?”

Apparently, this subject of sacrifice stayed with me until the next day.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

“Truly, what does it mean to sacrifice something that costs me?”

This verse came alive that year as I learned to bring my pain, my memories, my ideas of normal, my illusion of control as a sacrifice to the one who is sovereign, the one who is Lord to hold it all together.

I mentioned earlier that it prepared me to meet my husband. Not that I had to endure trauma in order to earn a husband, but because of what I went through, I was humbled. And the circumstances of how my husband and I met, I needed to be in a humble place because it required a step of faith that I honestly don’t know if I would’ve been prepared for a year prior.

And it’s a lesson I’m still learning. To sacrifice pain, memories, control at his feet.

They are costly offerings indeed, and while the rest of the world may not know the personal cost, the Lord knows what each of our trials costs us individually. And they are precious sacrifices in his eyes.

Recommended Posts