The Cost of Love

Lately, I’ve often been moved to tears by watching the tearful goodbyes of others. Missionaries leaving their post, missionaries leaving our community base in Louisiana, Big Woods, missionaries leaving their families, and locals saying goodbye to their missionaries. It has brought me to this truth: love is costly.
“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken,” 

(C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves).

I often experience this temptation, however, especially living in community, to keep my heart “safe” from the pain of loving— either losing or being rejected by “staying in my lane” in the comfort of my own home or closest friendships—or even trying not to care too much. But, as the rest of C.S. Lewis’ quote goes:

“If you want to make sure of keeping [your heart] intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”

Over my last three weeks in Costa Rica before returning, I was blessed to share in the many tearful goodbyes of my fellow missionary teammates, the Waldrop family, as they left their beloved mission post after four years of serving both the rich and the poor there. They invited me into their many home visits, goodbye dinners, and coffee hours. It was an abundant time of community, ministry, and gratitude.

Only on their last day was I broken by the reality that this place would not be the same without them. Their lives touched so many; I can’t count how many stops we made and visits in the last days to give away just a few more of their belongings and hug one more person or family goodbye.

At the death of Jesus’ beloved friend, Lazarus, Jesus wept… and the Jews in response as they watched Him, proclaimed, “See how He loved him!” (John 11:36). Even though He knew He was about to raise him up again, our Lord, God Himself, was moved to tears by something about the momentary earthly departure of someone He loved.

I could not help weeping either as I watched this family—who have also loved me SO generously amidst the many others and amidst their own sacrifices during this time—and all those around them weep at their departure, thinking to myself, “Wow…See how they loved them!” 

I saw how costly love is… how it costs us our whole heart: broken into pieces and given for the sake of others as Christ’s own Sacred Heart.  

I saw the Waldrops pour their hearts into the people of their ministries each day before leaving, though their packing was still not done. I saw their youngest boy decide at the last minute to give certain toys of his to specific friends instead of taking them with him, knowing it would bless them. I saw them serve to the last minute, having their house full of friends and even strangers they scooped up after a donation drop-off or finishing up together the scraps of food they had left for lunch after having already given away their fridge. They gave of themselves to the last drop.

You could say confidently of them as Saint Paul says, “For I am already being poured out like a libation, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith,” (2 Timothy 4:6).

But as with Lazarus, the fruit of this sacrificial love is not just a broken, empty heart. It is the rejoicing that comes at the eternal communion won by bringing each other into the undying Love of Christ: 

“Even if I am to be poured out as a libation upon the sacrificial offering of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with you all. Likewise you also should be glad and rejoice with me…

[For] our commonwealth is in Heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will change our lowly body to be like His glorious body, by the power which enables Him even to subject all things to Himself,” (Philippians 2:17, 3:20).

I cannot think of a more beautiful life than a life poured out for love of Christ and for others, knowing it leads to this eternal communion where there will be no more tearful goodbyes! Witnessing the Waldrops’ love, the love of Christ incarnate through them, has changed my life, as it has for many they left in our beloved Costa Rica.

And I challenge you as I’m challenging myself right now: to simply love. Pour yourself out for love, maybe someone particularly uncomfortable to love! Not the world’s cheap, “nice” version of “love,” but the true, other-worldly love of Christ that pours out to the last drop. Although the cost of love is costly, the REJOICING to come is eternally worth it!