A first good story:
This past weekend around this time (11:53am on Saturday morning) I was on a slope, a dusty, steep volcano slope. I found myself with an extra three liters of water on my back. As the sweat dripped from my face, my heart whispered to the Lord “this isn’t my load”. In all His kindness, He responded to me “neither was the cross”. What a whammy! I get to, in a way, sacrifice like Jesus did. Yes, it doesn’t even compare, but the lesson was still strong. To “give up (something important or valued) for the sake of other considerations”. In this instance, it was my physical strength, my energy, my body that I got to sacrifice. I got to give these things to another that was struggling and unable to carry her load. At first, I wasn’t even expecting a thank you or a pat on my back in return. My beginning heart posture was I just wanted to help because I could. Obliviously, flesh reared its ugly head for a sec and the Lord got to turn that into a sweet lesson. A couple days later I was reading in Romans 15. Verse 2 jumped out to me. “Strength is for service, not status.” Man, that’s so good! Because I am strong and because I am capable, I get to serve all the more. My strength is not my own (it is not for me); it is to be used for the glory of God! Back on the mountain, after discussing with the Lord, the extra load became a joy. Near the end of our day’s journey, three women and I were sharing the load of the extra pack. And, get this, we all wanted to carry it for the extra amount of joy that it brought.
Is it possible that our loads can feel lighter when carrying a double portion?
Can joy really be the result of sacrifice?
A fun other story:
Something was said the other week that really stung, like big time. I didn’t get the credit I thought I deserved and I felt very unseen. It pricked a tendy space in my heart that was obliviously still sore. A week later I decided to bring it back to the people who said it. Holy Spirit heartbeat started up, she was hard and fast. So, I said the thing, and I felt the walls of protection that I built up disappear into dust. People thanked me for doing the hard thing, living in actually vulnerability. Later on, a woman I greatly respect, asked me some prodding questions. She was creating inner pressure to see if I noticed the ego and pride in the mist of my pain. I didn’t, but I did after that. She loved me enough to tell me the hard truth, and she helped put me back on the path to looking more and more like Jesus (I must decrease so He can increase, to Him all the glory). Who should be the one I want seen? Jesus, of course. I get to be a unique expression of Christ. Not Brook and Jesus (a see me and see Him). But see Him when you look at me. My spirit was thankful, my flesh was screaming, and my heart was filled with shame and embarrassment after she gave me the hard truth. I just let everyone see my pride! (thankfully) After some repentance, getting right with the Father, all confusion (that was present for like a week left me). And then I was just purely thankful for the whole experience, ain’t that God? The feelings were valid, the vulnerably was brave, and the truth was needed. There was room for it all! This also quickly turned into sweet testimony that I got to share with my racers.
