Price Check

     Today's post will require a little bit of imaginative effort on your part, readers. So, I hope you'll humor me on this one. Imagine for a moment that you've been diagnosed with a very rare, very swiftly acting terminal illness (think Gwyneth Paltrow in Contagion). There is only one doctor in the world that has the skills and resources to save your life. What lengths would you go to to get this doctor at your bedside?  Now pretend it's not you with the illness, but someone you love dearly - your spouse, parent, best friend, or child. How much money would you be willing to pay, how many miles would you be willing to travel, what possessions would you be willing to give up for the assurance that this person could receive the treatment they require and survive?  What is the value of that human life to you? I'm guessing you don't need long to think about this one. You're thinking, "obviously the life of someone I love is worth more than anything to me - more than any monetary amount, physical possession, or personal hardship I must undergo". Good. Now, add one more twist to this scenario. Imagine that the ailing individual is someone you've never met. What is the value of a stranger's life?

     Lately I've begun investing my time in a local pregnancy crisis center. The center is a place where women facing an unplanned pregnancy can come for pregnancy testing, resources, and counseling. When I'm there, I am reminded of the immense, immeasurable value of human life. The women I've met there devote each and every day of their existence to promoting human life in its various forms and stages - the life of little ones still inside the womb, the life of the anxious mama who didn't plan to carry such a load at this time, and the life of the crushed woman who decided not to continue her pregnancy. Even the life of a young seminary graduate still trying to figure out her role to play in the "real world". It's challenging to witness a community that is willing to pay any price in any currency of money, time, energy, or resources to promote life. Particularly, the lives of those they haven't even met.

     So, these days I've been asking myself, "what does the way I live my life say about the value I place on other people?" Loved ones and strangers alike. I'm no Mother Theresa. I'm probably not even a regular Patch Adams. The harsh reality we all must face is that we make choices every single day that say something profound about our hearts toward others. These choices reflect our priorities, our convictions, and our beliefs about the inherent value of ourselves, and of others. In my life, it frequently plays out like this: I'm worth another Caramel Macchiato at Starbucks, but the guy who cuts me off in the parking lot is not worth the ounce of grace it would require of me not to honk the horn. I'll probably even honk it twice to ensure I win the last say in this battle, as if my blaring horn can communicate a final, "so there!"

    I'm working on it, okay? And, in full acceptance of my own personal failure, I am so relieved to relay the message that someone bigger than you and me has already issued the final decree on my value and yours. That's right, we've all got a price tag pinned to our ears. Thank God (literally) that someone decided that we were of the utmost value, in the moments we do and don't treat each other like this is true. Jesus Christ paid for the price for our lives at the cost of his. We didn't even need to exist before he decided our lives were worth all he had. And it's a sweet reality to know that there's not a single one of us who could lie on our virus ridden deathbed, looking as horrific and infected as Gwyneth, that Christ wouldn't be willing to pay any price to save. He already did just that when he found us in the filth and foulness of our disobedience and died so that we could be pulled from it.  It's a great thing to feel valued. And it's an amazing thing that God has told us we're worth any price.

Charting a Course

    Navigation is a highly valued skill in our ever commuting, traveling, jet-setting world. So, important, in fact, that GPS devices and mapping tools are installed not only in our computers but in our cars and cell phones as well. In modern society there is little need for the old fashioned gas station stop to ask a passing stranger where the closest diner is so we can grab a chocolate malt with Fonzie and the gang. If we'd like to go somewhere, anywhere, most of us can trace a path to our destination before you can say "doo-wop". As glad as I am that transportation has been revolutionized by Tom-tom, Garmin, and the like, I sometimes wonder why we can't take this technology and apply it more broadly than just to travel. Like for instance, to life.

   Take my life, for example. After wrapping up ministry in Chicago, I returned to my home in the D.C. area armed with an M.A. in Counseling, a youthful passion and idealism not too tarnished by the grit and reality of the big city, and a zealous desire to love people on behalf of Jesus Christ. Now, it's my job to take these tools and chart a course for the path my life will take. What would be preferable, however, would be to simply pick up my Tom-tom and enter my destination: "successful counselor who specializes in work with crisis pregnancy, birthmothers considering adoption, and troubled teenaged girls", and simply follow the route it outlined for me. (Wait for it, this technology will someday be developed... most likely the day after I retire.)  

    That being said, here's the upside to these course charting days in which I live. I've got a greater navigator who is outlining my path through the murky waters of transition, change, and career seeking. I have found deep, abiding rest in knowing that my relationship with Christ is the single most defining and pivotal aspect of who I am, what I do, and where I'm going. If you know Christ and have experienced this yourself, then you're nodding and thinking, "Come on, Natalie, tell me something I don't already know." So, I'm really talking here to those of you who don't know Christ. I want to encourage you that if you find yourself in a place of charting the course for your life, and if you also find yourself overwhelmed and intimidated by this thought, then please hear me when I say we weren't meant to do this on our own Even more jarring is the reality that as much as we'd like to be, we weren't made to be the captain of our own ship. As we strive to direct our own path and find our own way, we are easily misled and misdirected. And a misdirected ship is one that usually ends up overtaken in the sudden storm, submerged in the heart of the sea, or shattered among the rocks.

     I tell you this honestly, because I want you to know that there is a very willing navigator, not simply for your life, but for your soul. Even in the tempests of this life, I find encouragement in knowing that these waters are transient and temporary for me. I'm being led to something bigger than this life. I'm being guided towards a harbor that lasts forever on the other side of this life. Maybe you've thought about what comes next, maybe you haven't. Maybe you're too busy thinking about what's coming tomorrow. But just hear me on this, Jesus is standing by ready to know you and let you know him, and he wants a relationship with you that will last longer than just a lifetime.

    When I remember this truth, I no longer worry about the fact that I can't let my Tom-tom plan my life. I continue making choices, decisions, and plans that I hope and pray will lead me where I want to go. And more importantly, I know that as I follow Jesus' leading in my life, and as I let him work out his design through those choices, decisions, and plans,  I will most assuredly end up where he would like me to be. And when I arrive at my end point, I'll be with the one who got me there.

    I'd like to leave you with with one of my favorite series of paintings at the National Gallery of Art in D.C. It's called The Voyage of Life by Thomas Cole. These four images trace a man from infancy to old age under the guiding watch of God. I never fail to see myself in the various stages that Cole so beautifully portrays. I'm not going to promise you a personal angel decked out in white, but I can promise you the same intentional care and guidance of the God who wants to know you. He's just waiting for you to invite him aboard, step back from the ship's wheel, and rest in the course he's charted for you.