by Marcia Sanders
Sunshine . . . blue skies. David smiled. Could a day get any better? Lost in thought about the upcoming camping trip with his friends from church and all the fun they would have, he didn’t notice the worried expression on his mother’s face as she called to him.
“What?” David answered. “I finished my chores, and I’ve started packing for the trip.”
“Nothing about that,” Mom answered, with a pained look on her face. “It’s Papa. He fell and broke his hip, so he’s in surgery. You won’t be able to go on the camping trip because Nana will need you to help her with chores while Papa’s recovering. I’m so sorry. I know you were really looking forward to the trip.”
“Sorry? It’s more than sorry!” David responded, a bit louder than he had intended. “I’ve been looking forward to this trip for months. I worked odd jobs to pay my way. All of my friends will be swimming, riding horses, doing zip lines. Surely someone else can stay with Nana.”
Mom looked at David with such disappointment in her eyes. “Do you have any idea how hard this is for Papa and Nana? There is no other way.”
Mom went back into the house, leaving David outside. David couldn’t remember when he had been so disappointed — to give up something that meant so much to him.
Just then, Dad walked up. “Hey, David! How’s it going?”
“Fine,” David muttered.
“That’s about the least fine I’ve ever heard fine sound.” Dad smiled. “Care to tell me what makes this day so ‘fine’ for you?”
“I just found out that I can’t go on the annual camping trip because I have to stay and take care of Nana,” David complained.
“Missing the trip, that’s tough. But what a great opportunity for you.”
“What? An opportunity to be miserable?” David groused.
“No . . . to experience sacrifice,” Dad answered. “In this country, we aren’t expected to make a real sacrifice. Not like being threatened with death or injury just for serving the Lord. Of course, this is nothing compared to their sacrifices — and especially nothing like what Christ gave — but a sacrifice nonetheless.”
“I didn’t think about it like that,” David mused. “I still don’t like it, though.”
“Well,” Dad laughed, “it wouldn’t exactly be a sacrifice if you did. Do you remember Jesus’ response when the time for His death was near?”
David thought for a bit. “Not really.”
“Jesus prayed so fervently that His sweat was like drops of blood, and three times He asked God to spare Him from that death. But His final words were, ‘Not My will but Yours be done.’ See, Jesus didn’t want to suffer, but He did want to obey. Sometimes we must do the really hard things — even when we don’t want to.”
“I do love Nana and Papa,’ David replied, “and I like to be with them. I guess, maybe, it’s not as bad a sacrifice as I first thought.”
