The day began with a pep talk. One he didn't really need. One that I really did need.
I opened the Book.
"But whatever things were gain to me, those things I have counted as loss for the sake of Christ. More than that, I count all things to be loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them but rubbish so that I may gain Christ"-Phil 3:7-8
You may or may not have read my post last year about how we don't celebrate Halloween. What you don't remember, I'm sure, is how I weaseled my way out of having to do something difficult. Something scary. Something that would force me to lose so that I might gain.....
To tell the truth.
You don't remember because I didn't tell you.
Oh, I was happy to share about our decision to abstain from the Halloween festivities in the same way that Daniel abstained from the rich feasts offered to the kids being groomed by the Babylonian king. I made sure to tell you that we didn't take part in the Halloween party at school. I highlighted the great opportunity we had to choose to be different from the rest of the world. It was pretty easy to write. It was pretty easy to do, really, because aside from a school costume party and sugar high, it cost me nothing.
And I realize now that I also gained nothing.
Here's the truth: I was dishonest with Andy and his teachers. I planned a family day trip conveniently on October 31 so that I could tell them, "I'm sorry, we'll be out of town that day." And although I've always told Andy why we don't celebrate Halloween, I protected him from the marvelous opportunity to lose so that he could gain...."Who needs that silly old party? We're going on a trip! Too bad for all your friends who have to go to school that day, huh? Plus, you can dress up any time you want! We're so cool. Most parents only let their kids dress up on Halloween. Lame, right? Who cares about Halloween when you can have so much fun without it?"
Shameless.
See....I thought that if I positioned it right, he might not resent us for making him miss the super fun party where he could be Captain America AT SCHOOL and eat candy corn all day long. Maybe he'd think he's got it so much better than all those kids who got to....no, no...HAD to go to school that day.
And as for the teachers, well, I didn't want them to think I was some kind of religious weirdo that looked upon them with judgement for their extravagant celebration of death and evil. I don't, but what if they thought that? What if I lost that thing I work so hard to protect? That thing I've allowed to define who I am?
My pride.
I chose to hold it with a closed fist. I chose to manage it myself because that felt a whole lot safer than letting God use my reputation for His purpose.
And I missed out.
Paul suffered some loss. His reputation, his status, his prestige, his relationships...eventually, his life. And he didn't just passively lose them. He labeled them trash and threw them in the dumpster. He understood something that I'm just starting to see....
If the show "Hoarders" had a kid version, Andy would be on it. He'd be the star of it. It pains that boy to throw anything, ANYTHING, into the trash can. I once saw him replace the cap of a dried-out marker and place it right back into his art bin. I told him to throw it away, and what ensued was a 15-minute long discussion about whether he really HAD to get rid of it. He was worried that someday, he might find some use for it, and he will have lost it forever. Can you guess what finally motivated him to throw it away? It was this:
"You know, Andy, Christmas is coming up soon; and we've only got so much space in our house. So, we can fill up that space with stuff that doesn't work; or we can get rid of the old and make space for the new. I don't mind calling your grandparents and telling them you're all set with what you've got. It's your choice."
The surpassing value of new Christmas gifts made throwing away the marker the obvious choice. Though just minutes ago, the marker was labeled, "precious; when compared to the prospect of shiny new toys, that label changed to "trash". This way, he had space for something that did have value.
The choice is ours too.
Paul isn't trying to devalue success, status, relationships, or reputation. He is simply saying that the prospect of knowing Christ is SO GREAT that these things are not worthy of the label that reads, "PRECIOUS". Not. Worthy.
It's hard to get rid of things unless we're convinced that what we're getting is far better than what we had. So we're given an invitation: "Let go of that thing you've got a death grip on, so that you can come get more of ME.". And more of Jesus....of all that He is....is ultimately what we really need. Will I say, "No, thanks" to more strength, more contentment, more peace, more joy, more wisdom, more love, more of HEAVEN...in order to keep my pride intact?
If I sit down and think about it, the comparison isn't even worth making...kind of like an old, dried out marker vs. new Christmas gifts. This thing that makes me strive to make myself into something I'm not...that bids me to lie and manipulate....that tempts me to worship myself and fumes when others don't....it ain't workin'. I've only got so much space in my heart. And Christmas is coming.
If it's true that my real life is hidden with Christ; if it's true that His love for me is unconditional; if it's true that in Jesus, I am complete; if it's true that the Creator of the universe cannot love me more or less than He does at this very instant because He loves me infinitely; if who I am is defined by who He is because I am His; if He has prepared a place for me and I'm almost there....
I can throw it away. All that I considered gain. All that I'd labeled "precious" and held onto and managed because I just really thought I would need it.....
People's positive opinion of me
The reputation of a Christian who's not crazy
Being my kids' "fun" mom
Our kids never feeling left out
Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera
So I did it.
I told Andy the truth that morning. There's going to be a fun party that he won't attend. Tons of kids will be talking about what they're going to be for Halloween. It's exciting. It's fun. There will be candy. He will be left out.
I also told him that when we let go of something....some fun, our reputation, our money, our status, our schedule, our pride, our plans, our very lives....for the sake of honoring Jesus, what we get is far greater than what we let go. Jesus spoke to my heart through my own pep talk. It was weird.
But it is true. These things I think are so important often become road blocks to what really matters. What if I let God manage my reputation? What if I decide I'm willing to look crazy for His sake? What if I let go of the constant pressure to be Queen Fun Mom and let God direct what we do? What if I let God meet my kids when they're left out?
The surpassing value of knowing Christ enabled me to tell those moms and Andy's teacher the truth last week. It was a little painful. But now, instead of living with a heart fraught with guilt and disappointment (along with the endless work of justification of my actions), I'm excited. I'm excited with the expectation of a kid at Christmas. I know God has far greater things in store for us than what my puny little efforts to manage my reputation and Andy's feelings can accomplish. Andy trusted me and was not disappointed on Christmas morning. Reader, will you trust your God today and ask Him to help you let go of that dried up marker in your hand?
You won't be disappointed.
