A Small Price to Pay

While visiting Rachel's family over the Thanksgiving holiday I read a few excerpts from Jesus Freaks, by DC Talk. One of these true stories was about a church of 27 members living in tunnels underground, somewhere in Korea, to avoid persecution by the local authorities.
Once discovered, all of them, men, women, and children were placed before a crowd of about 30,000. Nooses were placed around the necks of the children and the parents were commanded to recant their faith in Jesus. The parents bravely told their children they would see them in Heaven shortly.
After watching their children die quiet deaths the adults were laid out side by side on the ground and a steam roller was brought in for further intimidation. They began to sing a hymn of praise to God, and continued to sing as the large machine was fired up and began to crush them one by one.
Over these last several months as we've sorted through, thrown away, and sold off all of our belongings, I've had many personal times of introspection. A pack rat by nature, I had a crawl space and a garage filled with junk that should have been thrown away years ago. It's interesting how painful it is to let some things go. You always think you own these things, until you have to let them go, and then you realize how much they have owned you.
Following the call of the Lord and stepping out to live and work as missionaries has not been easy and something we have avoided for a long time. It's easy to say that we're totally sold out for Christ, that we're willing to go anywhere, and even die for Him. It's an entirely different game when the realization of giving up everything, including all of the modern amenities of America, and the comforts of daily life, kicks in. Let's face it, I'm not facing a firing squad, or anything even close. I'm facing living in a two-room apartment without a dish washer.
The more I reflect on the story of the Koreans above, the more I realize what a weak Christian that I am. I have a long way to go before I will have the strength to endure what so many of my Christian brothers and sisters are going through each day.
It helps me to remember that each item I get rid of, no matter how much it has meant to me in the past, will always be a small price to pay.
-your friendly neighborhood Jesus Freak