For What It’s Worth . . .

 “But my life is worth nothing to me unless I use it for finishing the work assigned me by the Lord Jesus—the work of telling others the Good News about the wonderful grace of God.” - Acts 20.24

What is the value of a life? 

Wow. 

In what feels like a short life of 39 years, I’ve seen lives born and lives lost. Some born into ideal situations while others were less than ideal. Some lives ended in tragedy and senseless pain while others softly drifted to death like a sweet homecoming. 

When life is created, it’s celebrated. Simultaneously, the change that new life brings causes grief. Losing independence, losing potential, losing dreams coupled with the inexpressible joy of new adventure is a strange thing to grieve. But it’s there. 

When life is lost, it’s grieved. Simultaneously, for those who belong to the Lord it is a celebration. This life based in the flesh was a shadow of the glory we will one day experience. We celebrate the end of chronic brokenness, the end of inevitable disappointment, and the end of sin-twisted life. But we grieve.

The value of a life is a sensitive topic for me. I have lost loved ones to tragic accidents and sickness. I have seen teenagers’ lives cut short by split-second decisions. I witnessed my mom gasp for her last breaths after being taken off a ventilator. I held my weeping wife stunned by the news of losing our unborn child. 

Each life I’ve encountered has been created, paid for, and pursued by the Lord. So I know the value of each life in my mind.

But how do I value each life?

Paul’s statement here is saying the most important use for his life is to complete the task given to him by His Creator. The task given him—and all of us—is to tell others of the love and grace of Jesus.

The most valuable expression of the most valuable creature is to share the unmerited love of the Creator available to all His creation.

But what of the lives who are no longer with us? How do we see the Gospel in the loss of life? It cannot be wasted? 

The power of death lingers. Until, of course, we celebrate the new life that causes grief of others.

Jesus Finishes What He Starts

The pieces of the jigsaw puzzle mock me simply by their existence. Sitting on the table with its siblings scattered across the felt covering that contrasts the table from their fragmented picture. 

At the beginning, I was so dedicated to completing it. Sorting, making a system to reconstruct, and piecing it together slowly over time. But things happen. Busyness gets in the way. Other things catch my attention and the idea of returning to the puzzle seems burdensome. 

Then it’s a matter of pride. “I shouldn’t HAVE to finish it if I don’t want to” I mutter under my breath every time I pass the office door. Eventually, my wife asks if she can move it and almost as though she’s putting me out of my misery, I lament the necessity of putting it away while inwardly I’m celebrating the excuse to shut up the judgmental stares of the 1000 pieces that I failed to assemble. 

Failing to realize my goals, no matter how inconsequential, haunts my existence. Unfortunately, I haven’t always been able to separate the concept incompleteness from true failure. In my mind, “incomplete” equals failure. 

But that’s simply not true. There is only One who finishes everything He starts.

Jesus finishes what He starts. He doesn’t leave me hanging. He hasn’t forgotten me or lost interest in me. He is as committed to His love for me today as the day He died on the cross. His love for me doesn’t waiver. He doesn’t regret making me, pursuing me, and knowing me. He has not thought twice about walking with me in this life.

So how do I walk in faith that He is using me, shaping me, and transforming me into His likeness? 

I take the next steps in front of me. The next thing that comes, I tend to in the wisdom and diligence that the Spirit gives. Each small step of faith in obedience is a step toward trust in Him and HIS work in this world.