101, 201 & 301

This post has a "real" subject, but I have a couple random comments first:

1. For the record: Kari, Amy, Paula, Beth, Korin, Kelley and Brooke are the best-est. Thankyou Beth, SO MUCH for the wonderful package you sent, and another HUGE thank you to all of you who were on the other end of the phone call Fri.night/Sat. morning. I'm not sure of exactly who of you (and sundry husbands and boyfriends) was on the speaker phone, but I really appreciated it. I realized later that not everything I said made absolute sense--I had been really asleep...

2. The SCAM real estate office and Lusitania Voyages travel office face each other on the main street of my town. Now, SCAM is an acronym, and the French are forgiven for not knowing (or caring) about how that sounds in English. But Lusitania? Really? They want to name their travel business after the most famous sunken ocean liner after the Titanic?

3. And now, the real thoughts of the day:

"If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you?"

Life here has been quite "interesting" just now, and I've developed rather a bad attitude about the whole bit (that sentence brought to you by the South African influence in Annie's life). I've spent the weekend trying to discover why I've been so grumpy. Here's what I came up with:

Self-Sacrifice 101: My first memory of self-sacrifice is circa Christmas 1982, when all I wanted was to sit on Momma's lap, only Momma no longer had a lap, because she and my dad had decided that they wanted another child (I thought a one-child family was rather idyllic, actually). A couple months later there was a tiny little baby and I became "Momma's little helper." The baby laughed for me, and his first word was my name. Momma was always there when I needed her. I may have sacrificed some sleep-time and some Mom-time, but I was appreciated, loved and thanked, so the sacrifices were joy.

Self-Sacrifice 201: Taking care of baby brother #1 may have been a joy, but then there were two of them, and the second nicknamed me "Mom #2." Once he asked me why we never had babysitters... I almost clocked him.

He asked because to him it was natural for me to make him meals, put him to bed, clean up after him, etc. He'd usually call me "Mom #2" to make me mad when I was making him do something he didn't want to do--like go to bed. But through that era I learned to sacrifice for people who took me for granted. My brothers and a wide assortment of other people's children assume that I will drop what I'm doing to take care of them. And they're right. I learned to find great joy in dropping my favorite book in order to take care of little people who needed me. It didn't come naturally--and still doesn't all the time-- but usually it's a pleasure to sacrifice for these people who often don't appreciate what I'm doing for them. The new generation doesn't want to go to bed anymore than my brothers did, but there's joy in sacrificing for them.

Self-Sacrifice 301: Level 101 was easy, and I've passed 201 with occassional slip-ups. But I am failing 301 miserably. If 101 is sacrificing for people who love, thank and appreciate me, and if 201 is sacrificing for people who love me but take my sacrifice for granted, then 301 is sacrificing for people who demand to be served without honest appreciation. I am not finding joy in current sacrifices, and, while my bad attitude is moving in the right direction, it is doing so very slowly. Until now, I've been griping, scowling and feeling self-righteous about my honest complaints.

But this isn't a question of justice, it's a question of love. This is when my faith meets reality, and I have to ask if I really believe that Christ's way is the best way. Joy comes with sacrifice, as I discovered during "101" and "201." And I am suspicious that if I sacrificed my current bad attitude, then I would find a joy that I haven't know before.

God is a redeemer by nature. Everything He touches becomes new, whole and better than it was before. If perhaps some people have treated me badly, He will redeem those acts, and turn them into blessings in my life. But first I have to let Him.

Christ says, "Give me your burdens, and I'll give you life."
"But I want to see justice done!" I reply.
"Justice for them? Or justice for you?" He says.

I want grace for myself, but justice for those who hurt me. And that's not the deal. I cannot receive God's joy in this situation until I accept that He is going to have grace on the people who hurt me. The sacrifices become deeper and harder, but so does the redemption.

I'm not sure that this is "301." I think that this is the true beginning, and what came before was merely a preface.