Processing Through

"The cost of something is that amount of life which must be exchanged for it."

This quote is handwritten on a neon orange post-it note taped to the wall in my office. I look at it often. I ponder it often. The implications of this small piece of truth are far-reaching and extremely painful. In all honesty, this quote hurts my insides. It hurts because it is true.

I could go on and on about the truth and justice implications of this statement when it comes to food, clothing, technology and vehicles. But I think I will just leave it, because it speaks for itself.

The real thing I am thinking about it this: how does this quote apply to life? Real life. In my days I do many things. I watch movies, I drink coffee, I work in my office, I cook for students, I read books with my husband, I talk to friends, I sew, I walk, I drive, sometimes I even run. I do lots of things, in no particular order. What is the cost to me, to my family, to my friends, to the God that I serve, of my actions?

Let me see if I can make this make some semblance of sense. What pieces of my life am I exchanging for these things? Is the cost worth the life that is being exchanged?

What is it costing me when I sit on the couch, watching another show that serves no real purpose? Is it acceptable for me to do these things when they give me a deep and immeasurable joy? Some things are life giving, even when that doesn't make sense. Sometimes I need to be given some life because sometimes I just can't bear another thing that will cost me more life...more joy.

Lately, the shoes of my life absolutely do. not. fit. I've tried on many pairs, but they are all too big, too small, too painful, or don't match. I've been walking in these shoes for awhile, but they just don't work. When do I give the shoes away to someone who can fit into them and try some new shoes on? When my life is so completely broken and mangled that I don't even recognize myself as 'me' anymore? When do you stand up and say 'enough is enough'?

When do you stop crying over shoes that pinch and just get rid of them? Do you ever? Do you keep wearing them because everyone else might think you are crazy if you give them away? Or even throw them away?

Sometimes, the truth is painful. Sometimes, the truth is freeing. Sometimes, the truth brings life and hope. Sometimes, the truth does all of these things at once. And then you don't know where to turn.

I think I have the answers. But there is lots of fear. And lots of excitement.