Beware Fake Martyrdom!

Dear Sweet Lord,

There are many who have given their lives and shed their blood out of love for you.  They KNEW what following you would cost, and they couldn't turn away from you.  Where else would they go?  YOU are the way and the truth and the life! So many brothers and sisters have given their lives because they believe in you.  Even unto death.  Real death with a real sword or a real gun.  Real people died by being set on fire.   They wouldn't deny you, and there was a real price.  Real.

There is a danger that I struggle with, and I know I am not alone. It's easy to get tricked into thinking we're martyrs just for doing the normal stuff we do.

Poor me, I made dinner.  Poor me, I have to wash the dishes. What a sacrifice I am making to vacuum the floor.  Boo Hoo Hoo!  I give and I give and I give some more.  BUNK! BALONEY! Stop it right NOW!

It is my privilege, my right, and my opportunity for grace and growth to care for my family. It is my calling to make a home for my children and my spouse. It is my blessing to get to share my faith to the students at St. Martin's.  It makes me feel happy and satisfied, needed and loved to teach small children how to read and make good choices at school.  No one owes me that, and when I do what is expected of me, that is its own reward.

Anything else is a devil's trick.

At the institution of the Eucharist, Jesus says, "this is my body which will be given up for you".  He also says, "do this in memory of me."  So I am called to give my body in memory of Christ giving his.  He held nothing back.  I get so lazy. He carried the cross to his own crucifixion.  I carry food to the table.  He gave his body and blood, every drop. I've given my body to carry my children, but it's not the same.

When my day comes, and my life is required of me, I pray that I have nothing left but my desire to be with you, Christ.  I pray that I have spent every cell of my being, every muscle, every heartbeat in true service to you, my beloved. I hope that my fingers are gnarled from spending so many hours helping others.  I hope my knees are shot from praying on them.  I pray my mind is left with nothing but your word, and memories of all the loved ones I've been blessed to know.  I pray that you would shield me from this fake martyr attitude when I'm really just tired or lazy.  I pray that if I am to undergo the test of true martyrdom, I will have YOUR strength to choose YOU.  Every time.

 Eternally.        

Love,

Me