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Life and Death


We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body. So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you. (II Corinthians 4:10-12)
 
For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it. What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul? (Matthew 16:25-26)
 
        There’s a choice to be made. It’s simple but it’s hard. It seemed most clear to me during my last career. As I crossed the parking lot I thought that death would be preferable to another day there. At the same time, I believed that God had directed me there. I considered the verses from Matthew. I could either escape from where I was and save my life and lose my soul (not to hell, but to self) or I could die a little more every day and be more alive through eternity as a result.
         It’s not that I thought my salvation was at issue. It was more that the quality of that salvation, or perhaps my sanctification was at issue. I could refuse to face what I believed God had called me to face or I could trust Him for my life and accept this death to self. I started thinking of the parking lot as my little Gethsemane. I could either say, “Not my will but Thine” or I could say, “Not Thy will but mine!”
          For years, I told my father that I didn’t want to move to Florida. For a fewer number of years, I told him that when and if it reached the point that he needed me to go with him to Florida, I would. Not quite two years ago, I left my career (as miserable as it was), walked away from my social status (as low as it was) and became even more of a nobody, living two half-lives. It’s not easy. It’s simple but it’s hard. I don’t have control of much. I feel guilty for going to the dentist, because I’m not spending my money.
          And yet, these deaths to self gave life. As miserable as my career was, my schedule had some flexibility. It allowed me to do things I couldn’t have done in a “better” job that demanded more hours or a more regular schedule. Becoming Dad’s unpaid caregiver has allowed me the freedom to write.[1] My soul is more alive because I’ve died to self and to “life” as the world defines it.  

[1] This is something that those protesting for women to receive “equal pay” don’t mention. The price men pay for their “greater” paycheck is with their lives. On average in America, women live to be 81, men, 76. Women more often make the choice to walk away from the slavery of the workplace to care for children or parents. Those who ridicule that decision are trying to sell slavery and the giving up of freedom in the name of “equality.”

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