What judges our worth?


Staring out my sliding glass door, I sighed at the now familiar sight. Each time I gaze upon it, a new heaviness settles in my soul. What am I referring to?

The half-masted flag.

A cemetery is located directly behind our house. It’s small, nicely kept, and a beautiful memorial dedicated to our service men and women surrounds an American Flag.

Beginning with the tragedy in Orlando, to the shootings in Texas and Louisiana, ending in the latest devastations overseas in France and Germany, the flag has held its grieving state for weeks, along with the majority of America. Our communities mourned when numerous lives have ended tragically and unnecessarily.

The notion underlying these horrific events is human lives are expendable. Worthless. Even a certain political candidate declared that unborn children have no constitutional rights. Friend, what happened to our society? This is tragic.

So all this stirring in me prompted a solitary question—how much are we worth?

When we were looking for a house, the real estate agent would say a house’s worth depended solely on what a person would pay for it. It didn’t matter if it was a new construction or recently remodeled with modern features. Its value was in how much it was purchased for.

So keeping in that same vein, our value lies in the price paid for us. Do you know how much we cost? Here’s the price tag. God’s only Son lived his entire existence sinless, abstaining from evil to the point he perspired blood. He was despised, tortured, and crucified. He suffered the flames of hell and then was gloriously resurrected. He paid an intensely high price for us.

This price didn’t depend on our gender, color, or nationality. He purchased us, destroying the sin nature residing in the heart of EVERY human. Which leads me to another point. The price he paid was the same for you and for me. Our worth is equal. Red and yellow, black and white we are precious in His sight.


In Hope

in hope pic

Against hope, in hope believed.

This phrase has been stirring in me over the past few days. The words are from Romans 4:18, and it’s describing Abraham and his situation. For those who may not know, Abraham was 100 years old and his wife, Sarah, was 90, and they were wanted a child.

So yeah, it looked hopeless. I’m sure the circumstance screamed at them, laughed at them every day, because obviously they weren’t getting any younger. So against the law of nature, against all odds, against any hope, in hope Abraham believed. What was the hope he believed? Hope in God’s Word. That one promise was all they had to cling to, but it was enough. 🙂 For Sarah conceived a son and named him Isaac.

I’ve seen this again and again in my life. When we were first married, we would go over our monthly bank statement and shake our heads. The paper noted we spent more than we brought in. And trust me, we weren’t extravagant. I remember rejoicing over an $8 shirt I bought at Old Navy. No, the money was used for our rent, both our school tuitions, and utilities and food. The numbers shown we had no money. Against hope, believe in hope. It looked like we were in a financial black hole, but we never missed a bill and our fridge was always full.

So what about you? Are you facing a situation that looks absolutely impossible? I mean, you’re looking at the entire picture, scratching you head, your mind’s yelling “No way!” Yet, there is a way. Against hope, believe in hope. Dare to believe the impossible. Close your eyes, plug your ears, shut yourself out to the million voices saying “it can’t be done,” and tune in to your heart where the God of all hope is saying, “With Me all things are possible.”

Is Freedom Really Free?



I’ve seen the word Freedom a bazillion times over the past week due to the recent holiday. It got me thinking—Is freedom really free? I mean, somewhere along the line it cost someone, whether it be time, money, or possibly a life.  Somebody paid for it.

So while I’m waving my sparkler and gawking at fireworks, there is a soldier in harm’s way, securing the very thing I’m enjoying—freedom. He or she is paying for it. Centuries ago Patriots spilled their blood purchasing our country from those who’d oppress it.

This opened my eyes.

Am I thankful? Do I even regard the sacrifice made for me?

I started thinking about this on a smaller scale in terms of my life. I’m a stay-at-home mama. I have the freedom to homeschool my daughter, but it costs my husband every day. In a way, he’s purchasing my freedom. Now, I realize I do a lot of work between schooling our daughter and keeping the home, but I’d never be able to do that without my husband going to work for us. Again, am I thankful? I’ve been endeavoring to show my gratitude more and more.

Lastly, I can’t end this post without talking about the Man who paid for my ultimate freedom—Jesus. He’d purchased my freedom from death’s grasp. Sin has no power over me. The enemy cannot oppress me. I can live in God’s fullness totally free. But Jesus paid an awful price. A sacrifice so brutal, so fierce that no words could capture its intensity.

So is Freedom really free? No, it’s a gift. Something to be valued and not taken for granted. Okay, what about you? Are you experiencing a freedom because of someone else’s sacrifice? Let me know in the comments below 🙂