“May I learn to take joy in what it costs me to share my life with those I love.”
To learn something, you have to not know something.
Generally speaking, I like learning new things. I love hearing new facts, acquiring new skills, and having conversations with people, or reading something that brings me some kind of enlightenment or epiphany. I love to learn.
But as I sat with this prayer, I wrestled with these words: “…learn to take joy in what it costs me…” If you’re anything like me, the words “joy” and “cost” feel a bit too close to each other in this sentence. Perhaps I wouldn’t struggle so much if it said, “the cost will steal your joy.” That feels closer to true. Or, at the very least, a bit less challenging. Upon a first, second, and third reading, this prayer really did feel like it was challenging me… personally.
“Take joy in what it costs.”
Hard pass.
I feel like I need special, leverage-efficient tools to pry any kind of money out of my wallet.
Just me?
How about, “Take joy, my King, in what You hear?” We’ve heard these words before, right? That feels like it costs a little bit less, somehow. Unfortunately, these aren’t the words of this prayer. “Take joy in what it costs.”
The word “learn” is staring me in the face right now, too. “Learn, Jason.” This is something you don’t know. To learn something, you have to not know something. Jason, you don’t know this. “Learn to take joy in what it costs.” Oof.
Recently, I have learned something new. I’ve learned about opportunity cost. Opportunity cost isn’t simply what a thing might cost you at face value. Rather, the opportunity cost is what you gave up to get the thing.
For example, your opportunity cost to read this blog post was the fact that you could have been doing something else, anything else, instead of reading this post. You could have been: a) working at your job making big bucks, b) watching your favorite TV program with a cold drink in hand, c) exercising in a low impact way, releasing cortisol, d) literally anything else. However, you chose to spend a bit of your day, your precious time, reading this post. It did cost you something.
However, the last part of this prayer puts it all in perspective, for me. “To share my life with those I love.” Children have been described as, “your heart, outside of your body.” Count this as true for partners/spouses/significant others, as well. Real talk: if you truly want to do something kind for ME, treat my children and my partner well. Show them you truly care and there’s nothing I won’t do for you. However, if you treat me well, but don’t treat those closest and most meaningful to me well, I can’t help but smell… ulterior motives.
Ahhh, this prayer is starting to make sense to me now. It feels a bit more instructive and a bit less abrasive. Well, it’s still abrasive, but in a good way, like pumice exfoliating a callous layer.
Yes, sharing life with those I love does have a cost, but often, what it costs me in time, attention, and resources is NOTHING compared to the joy that I receive. Sharing life with those I love is JOY.
But now, I’m faced with another thought… It’s pretty easy to identify those I love… and who love me. And yes, sharing life costs and is joyful.
But is my circle of “those I love” too small? Is Jesus calling me to somehow expand the circle of those I love? What about the unlovable? What about the annoying? What about my enemies?
Perhaps this is truly what I need to learn.
Man, learning is hard…
Jason Decena loves his family, loves serving as Campus Chaplain at La Sierra University, and loves to learn.
These reflections stand alone, but if you want to enjoy the prayers from May It Be So that they’re based on, please click here to request a copy of the book.