Long ago, when my kids were little, I thought I learned about sacrificial love. I mean I gave up so much during those years—time, money, energy, dreams. Somehow I imagined that would be the pinnacle of the giving up of myself.
But now I see it was only the beginning.
We registered our second child for college this weekend. In fact, it was the second weekend in a row we’d driven to another state to do college stuff with our kids. Two weekends of time and money and energy spent. With much more to spend waiting on the horizon. And just like when my husband started his own business, I see we are about to make a lifestyle change. A season of sacrifice. And it’s much bigger than anything I imagined when my kids were small.
The thing is, all those years ago I struggled with resentment. I felt I didn’t understand before I jumped in what would be expected. I felt imposed upon, less of a sacrifice, more of a punishment. This time it’s different. This time, while sacrifice is uncomfortable, as it always will be, I see meaning in it. I see growth coming for myself, my husband, my kids. And I’m even finding joy. For sacrifice changes us all—the one giving and the one receiving.
I’ve learned enough to realize even this won’t be the last moment of sacrifice in my life. Or even the probably the most painful. It’s simply another facet of the journey up the mountain of faith.
What sacrificial act has meant the most in your life? Was it something sacrificed by you or for you?