As I prepare my children for back to school, I am once again reminded of the cost of living – the cost of sending our children to a Catholic school, of clothing them, of providing them with the tools and materials they need for education. As I make preparations for my oldest daughter’s sixteenth birthday party, I reacquaint myself with the cost of “being cool”; as I schedule appointments for orthodontists, dentists, and sports physicals, I remember the cost of good health. As I sign my brood up for piano lessons and soccer teams, I stop and consider the cost of being “well-rounded”.
As my children grow older and start to pull away from me, I am reminded of the cost of Motherhood. I miss my toned tummy and six pack abs. I miss those pieces of my heart that are forever entwined with my children, those pieces that tug at my soul when they are away from me.
These things, – these costs – are fleeting. Bills come and go, money flows in and out. Children grow up, learn to drive, leave home. I do not regret the costs of living.
These costs are insignificant when compared to the price of living, the price paid by Jesus for our lives. That’s a price that hurts in the remembering. That’s a price that we must strive to repay by living His example in turn.
When tomorrow comes, this day will be gone forever, leaving in its place something that I have traded for it. I want it to be love, not hate; good, not evil; service, not self-centeredness; in order that I will not regret the price that He paid for it.