The Cost of Love

There are dirty dishes stacked on the kitchen counter. A laundry basket holds two loads of clothes that need to be folded and put away. There are papers that need to be sorted, floors that need to be swept and e-mails that need a response. My house is in serious need of a good cleaning, but I am spent. Each night, after I tuck our adopted son into bed, I am ready for peace, ready to slip into my nightly coma. If this is love, then love isn't very tidy.

Medical bills, one after another, come in the mail. Our son came to us with many issues. So much time is spent going to doctor appointments, tests, evaluations, catching him up on immunizations, and dental needs. We really need a new vehicle but that's not going to happen right now. Adoption drained our bank accounts. If this is love then love is costly.

Time spent with my husband is a mere blur at times. Often when we do have the opportunity to talk, we are too tired and simply want to fall asleep. Gone are the carefree bike rides and evening walks alone with him. We pour into our precious son and though its getting better all the time, sometimes, he doesn't respond as we had hoped. We spend most of our time and energy in an attempt to reach his wounded heart. If this is love, then love is consuming.

We've pared down our lives. Commitments, committees and ministries that were so important before have taken a backseat. We don't seem to get out as much. We don't have the social life we once did. We've lessened our duties at church considerably. Many projects have been put-off, at least for now. Sometimes, we really miss the fellowship, the freedom. We've thought about what is really important - what is eternal - what is worth doing and doing well and we feel as though we've chosen well. If this is love, then love is sacrificing.

My heart aches for my son to be free. His misbehavior and resentment are often hard to understand. Glimpses of walls being torn down give us hope. For the longest time, his love was un-returned and I'm thankful that he no longer screams at me that he doesn't want me to be his momma. He allows us to see his need for us now. We look forward to that day when he no longer lives in such a state of fear and self-protection. If this is love then love is painful.

I consider my own adoption, how I am heir to the throne of God. I ponder my redemption - how God saved me. I knew not, I understood not, the all-consuming love of the Father. I cannot fully comprehend the price that was paid to remove me from my bondage. I know of the cross, I read of Christ's pain, I imagine the suffering, but do I live there - in a place of understanding - of the Gospel? How then, can I expect our son to understand the cost his earthly parents have had to pay to redeem him, let alone the price God paid for him. Especially, when my flesh can fail my son, I wonder, how he could ever comprehend our love for him; God's love for him? If I cannot always see that God has my best in mind and always does what is most loving for me, how can I expect my son to trust that we always consider what is most loving for him?

Our days are filled with messiness, expenses, pain and sacrifices. These days are glorious days of continual, loving examples, fleshed-out before us in our home each day - examples of how costly the cross was for our God and Redeemer! The love that spilled forth on the cross wasn't tidy...it was brutal, bloody, horrific in suffering, it was all-consuming, excruciating and beautiful. God was willing, willing to get dirty for my sins. Then so should I, be willing...to get a little dirty...if this is love, then I want it.