Sacrificial Living

I read this blog post today and just had to share it with you. I have no clue who this mother is, but she's wise and she's transparent. When I got to the line about "tired of filling sippy cups" {just read it, and you'll understand}, my eyes filled with tears and a sweet conviction came over me.

I, too, have complained, under my breath, too many times. I'm tired of washing dishes. Tired of sweeping floors. Tired of folding laundry. Tired of teaching 4+1=5, not 6, again.

God has called us mothers to lives of sacrificial living. In this way, we are made in the image of our Creator. In this way, I dare say, we must live in order to call ourselves His children. Did He not graciously sacrifice the Most Precious gift of all for us?

I implore you today, read this blog: The Gift of a Savior

And if you're not blinded by your own tears at the end of it, read this one too: What a Mother Must Sacrifice

I've re-visited the latter many times over the three years I've been blogging, and every time I'm just as touched and convicted and teary-eyed as the first time I read it.

These posts might be better suited to Mother's Day, I thought. Now's not the time. 

But I couldn't resist. His birth, life, and sacrifice are what this season is all about. His gift to us. If I can't live sacrificially in front of my children every, single day, then I don't understand Christmas at all.

Sometimes giving hurts. The check written in faith as the offering plate is passed. The blessing of time given when we could have done something else. The much-desired birthday present that cost a little more than expected.

I'll leave you with a what-if that occurred to me today...WHAT IF WE GIVE GIFTS AT CHRISTMAS TO UNDERSTAND JUST A MINUTE PORTION OF HOW OUR FATHER FELT WHEN HE GAVE HIS ONLY SON TO US?

Sometimes it hurts to live sacrificially, but oh that I might know how to do it anyway.