I hear the screams of my little one from behind the closed door as I wait for her to come back to the hospital room to where she’s been admitted. “Stop! No more! I want to go HOME NOW!” are the words heard through frantic tears and cries as the nurses try three times to get in an IV.
I want to come home, too, my precious little one, and I know your mommy feels it even more. But we’re here. We’re here for you. We’re sacrificing our desire to be at home and relaxing so that these doctors and nurses can help you. We’re sacrificing luxuries that money could buy to make sure we pay whatever it takes to care for you.
I wish you could understand. Even though you are the only 3-year-old I’ve ever met that can lay comfortably in a hospital bed for two days and only ask “Can we go home” a few times I know your little mind doesn’t truly comprehend what’s going on or how much we cherish you.
The countless hours spent preparing your medical equipment, the countless times we’ve cleaned up after you’ve gotten sick, the amount of money we’ve spent to make sure you are strong; it’s all worth it because you are ours. Your mommy and your daddy love you more than you could ever imagine and hopefully you’re at least getting a little glimmer of that love that someday you’ll understand.
And that’s when I think of my Daddy. My Heavenly Father who says, “I’m allowing you this season of your life so that you’ll grow and learn. I’m teaching you patience so that you’ll be able to look back one day and understand. I’m allowing trials to strengthen your faith. I love you even more than you love your daughter because you are mine. I sacrificed more than anything you could ever dream of. For you.”
I hope that I can realize that the sacrifices I make for my precious child are nothing compared to what God has done for me. I also hope I can realize more and more that because of what He did for me, my sacrifices for her mean everything. They mean that someday she’ll begin to see an accurate picture of who her Heavenly Father is through me. It’s a monumental task and one in which I will fail often. But today my prayer is this, “Let me be to her what You are to me.”
Love to you, my beautiful daughter, from Daddy.
Love to you, my precious son, bought with the blood of the One that gave everything for you, from Daddy.
This post is part of the How to Be An Offering weekly series posted every Wednesday. I would love to hear your stories of sacrifice and how you are living a life of worship. To participate, write a post and link directly back to this one in your post. Leave a comment with the link as well. If you are on Twitter, use the hashtag #livingsacrifice.
