Why I Continue to Believe that Christ is Worth It

(This post is an excerpt from a paper I wrote last semester). 

          Perhaps you are wondering what the catch is, “Christianity cannot be that easy! I know that when you become a Christian you have to give up all sorts of things and follow all these rules. God has so many expectations.” Christianity may appear that way at first, but becoming a Christian is very different than this dismal picture. On first glance, it may seem difficult, but a closer examination reveals that Christ is the real treasure you've been searching for your entire life. 
                 Perhaps a story will make my point.  Once, Mommy and I were in the car—a question weighed on my 8-year-old heart and after a long contemplation, I finally asked, “Mommy, will Jesus bring my dollhouse to heaven?” 
             Mom raised an eyebrow,  “I don’t think so, Lynley. Why do you ask?”

            “Well, I’m not sure if I want to go to heaven if my dollhouse isn’t there. I would miss it. I really like playing with my dollhouse—it’s my favorite toy.” Mommy explained that I would not miss my dollhouse when I got to heaven because I would have Jesus. I remained skeptical, of course. How could I ever be happy without my dollhouse?
            Of course, we all laugh now because I have grown up. I no longer think I will miss my dollhouse in heaven, because I have outgrown my need for it—but at that time, my dollhouse was of great importance to me. Why? Because the pleasure I derived from the toy was immediate; it was right before me and instantly provided joy, entertainment, or an escape from the “hard stuff” (i.e. chores). At that age, I knew nothing of how I’d feel grown up—that I wouldn’t miss my dollhouse because I would be enlightened to all sorts of new things that were better than dollhouses.
              This mirrors how we relate to heaven and God. So often the phrase "pick up your cross" strikes terror into our hearts to think of losing or giving up the things that comfort us now. But this is because we are, in a way, children. We do not understand everything right now; we see only what is right before us. We cannot imagine life without our pitiful toys.
               But then God calls to us, telling us there is more to life than we presently see. “You will understand someday,” he tells us, “but until then, you will just have to trust that what I say is true. You won’t miss your old way of life once you grow-up spiritually.” If we believe and trust God, we will begin to grow up, and only gradually will we see why the dollhouse was no big deal. There are a lot of “dollhouses” in our lives that we do not want to give up because they seem necessary to our happiness—what we fail to see is that if we say “yes” to Jesus and learn to spend less time on the immediate pleasures around us, we will start to grow up. And once we’ve “grown up,” we’ll have a good laugh with Jesus remembering the time when we thought we needed those things to be happy.

The Cost of Comfortable

"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,"

Philippians 3:7-8

I have read these verses a thousand times, always with a certain apathetic regard for the passage. For a moment my heart exults in the knowledge that this is the way I was made to live, but this fleeting thought succumbs the fact that I am too comfortable to truly endure the "loss of all things." 


But this summer, the time came when God would allow my lazy heart to sleep no longer. My mother checked out a book-on-tape called Kisses from Katie. The passion and joy this book excited in my heart brought those verses to life. Katie, the author, is a 22 year old missionary to Uganda and she wrote this book about how her ministry came to be (she's been there since she was 19). I don't personally feel called to the mission field, but this book cut sharply through my contented passivity. You see, my ideal lifestyle has always been this: a calm, easy existence. To be successful was to have enough. But Katie truly discovered the heart of God. As I read her words heavy with compassion, love, and burdened care for the least of these, God exposed my ideal existence for what it really was: fearful selfishness.