Self-Sacrificing Love

Exhausted and miffed, I slammed the computer shut. I rubbed my temple as a tension headache began to form. 

Five. Thousand. Dollars. Five thousand!

That was the cost of the treatment procedure to fix my son’s cavities and tooth decay.

The pediatric dentist had said it was a little less than that, but not to me. My brain rounds up. It always has, always is, and always will. Funny how that’s the same description of our God. The same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Always has, always is, and always will be. 

Besides our car loan, this was the most debt we have ever accumulated in such a short amount of time. Even giving birth to my one and only child including all the expenses whilst pregnant didn’t amount to that number flashing across my mind in bright neon orange colors. Yes, orange. Because neon orange has always been a disturbing color to me. Too flashy. Too bright. Too…orangey. Doesn’t match my skin tone.

My brain screamed at me: This is your fault. You are a negligent mother. You should have caught the cavities long before now. You should have stopped your son from taking milk to bed as soon as he turned 2. YOU. COULD. HAVE. STOPPED. THIS.

I lifted my head out of my hands and pretended Satan was standing right in front of me. Though I didn’t have to pretend, because I knew he was there, even if I couldn’t see him. I gave him a glare that could have made Darth Vader cringe (you’re welcome, all you Star Wars fans). 

“No, Satan,” I said out loud, determinedly. “I am not a negligent mother. I love my son. I do the best I can for him. I made a mistake, yes. I wasn’t aware that his teeth were decaying and were in bad shape. But I am doing something to fix it. You have no right to stand before me and accuse me. I break off your condemnation in the name of Jesus Christ. Go. To. Hell.” 

I could feel the spirit of condemnation flee, but the anxiety around my heart and mind didn’t. How could it, when I was still thinking about that God-forsaken number? 

I shook my head, hoping if I shook my body hard enough, the anxiety would cascade right off of me. Fat chance. I laughed incredulously at my ridiculousness. At least it was worth a try. I sent a quick text to my girls, asking if they could pray for peace for the following months leading up to the procedure. I added: I think I’m going to unplug with the Lord for a good long while. 

I tapped the “do not disturb” button on my phone, one of my favorites. Anytime I needed to spend time in worship, with God, to write, or simply for some peace and quiet, I tapped that little moon icon. No alerts would ding, chirp, or ring. It was just me, myself, and I, lost in my own little world or with God. Gosh, I gotta stop pressing that button so often. I laughed again at myself, because this time, I was being ridiculous. How long did I allow myself to get distracted by notifications, entertainment apps, or looking up articles online? For the first time in a long time, I was unplugging. I was just being. And I wasn’t allowing myself to be distracted by anything so I could spend time with Jesus. No, I corrected myself, I don’t need to stop pressing that button. Thank you, Lord, for helping me to unplug. 

I turned on some worship music as I made myself a cup of decaffeinated coffee. With IBS, I had to limit my intake of caffeine or else it aggravated my digestive tract. One cup of caffeinated coffee in the morning, the rest of the day decaf. 

As I sat in my son’s surprisingly comfortable bean-bag chair in the living room, I allowed the lyrics of Cory Asbury’s song, Egypt, to wash over me:

I thought about the lyrics and how so relevant they were to where I was. Wasn’t I dragging myself back to slavery, bondage, and captivity when I allowed myself to be anxious and fearful? God freed me from my Egypt, so why did I constantly allow myself to return to that place? 

It reminded me of the Israelites when they were traveling to the Promised Land flowing with milk and honey. The Lord had freed them from their imprisonment in Egypt, and whilst they hadn’t reached the intended destination of the Promised Land yet, they were free! They were loved by a God of the Universe who was leading them towards abundant blessings. They didn’t have to answer to anyone except God Himself. He had broken off their shame and insecurity and replaced it with peace and joy. Somehow, that wasn’t enough. The Israelites began to lose sight of what the Lord did bless them with, and instead began to focus on what they didn’t have. It came to the point they wished they were never even rescued by God because at least there they were being fed.

The whole Israelite community set out from Elim and came to the Desert of Sin, which is between Elim and Sinai, on the fifteenth day of the second month after they had come out of Egypt. In the desert, the whole community grumbled against Moses and Aaron. The Israelites said to them, “If only we had died by the Lord’s hand in Egypt! There we sat around pots of meat and ate all the food we wanted, but you have brought us out into this desert to starve this entire assembly to death.” 

Then the Lord said to Moses, “I will rain down bread from heaven for you. The people are to go out each day and gather enough for that day. In this way, I will test them and see whether they will follow my instructions.”  (Exodus 16:1-3)

Later, the Lord didn’t just provide manna for them in the morning, which tasted like “wafers made with honey” but also evening quail for their dinner. 

Even amidst the Israelites grumbling and complaining, God provided. He listened. And He answered. Just like with me.

“Lord,” I said as I clenched tightly to my coffee cup, hoping the warmth would seep into my heart, “I feel so anxious right now. I am sorry for stepping back into my Egypt. Can you please lead me out again and help me to trust you? Help me to see the blessing in all of this, because my heart can’t fathom going into this kind of debt when we’re looking for a house to live in. I ask that you provide me with strength for this journey. And can I ask you for one more thing? Can you provide me with some encouraging words I can cling to so that when anxiousness tries to break down my door, I can bring these words to mind?” 

Wow, sometimes God doesn’t waste any time. I heard the words “self-sacrificing love” whisper across my mind. As I heard these words, I began to cry, because I knew exactly what they meant. 

Self-sacrificing love. Sacrificing something of your own for the benefit, outcome, and blessing of another. 

I don’t quite know how it happened, but these words wrapped around my anxiety, and like a ball python wrapping its body around its prey, it banded around my anxiousness until, poof! It was gone. 

All that was left was me, God, and self-sacrificing love. 

I quickly wrote these words on a note and tacked it onto our corkboard. As I gazed upon this reminder, I thought about the freedom that these three little words provided. I saw our pediatric dental debt in a new light. I no longer viewed it as a burden, a waste of money, or a roadblock to our dreams. It would take time to pay this off, and I knew the road would be hard. The battle with anxiety and fear would most likely be recurring. We’d have to watch our finances even more closely than before. We may even have to give up some fun and recreational things so we could make the payments. But this was a sacrifice worth making because my husband and I love our son too much. We ultimately want him and need him to be healthy and happy. It’s a love worth fighting for. And most definitely a love worth paying for. 

As a tear trickled down my cheek, I whispered, “Odis, your teeth are worth sacrificing my security, control, and trust over our finances. My God is in control, and I choose to trust Him in all things, including our finances. I love you more than all of that, and I will continue to fight for you.” 

Then I turned my head heavenward. My heart felt light and free. Despite how I was feeling just 15 minutes prior, I felt like dancing. I thanked the Lord for His goodness, His sovereignty, and His willingness to hear my requests and cries of anguish. I thanked Him for His steadfastness and faithfulness. And because it seemed so fitting: 

“Thank you, Lord, for Your self-sacrificing love.”