Sacrifice? Not really.

Sometimes I cling to my faith because the alternative is so much worse. What would a life be without faith in a personal, loving God? What would life be like if we were created by a disinterested God? A "let's set this baby in motion and see what happens" God. What if I believed I was an accident? What if everyone on this earth believed he or she were a product of time and chance?

For one thing, I wouldn't waste time at a sick person's bedside. I've too much living to do and I only go around once. I most certainly would not give my life for something other than myself. I'd have to believe that I'm the pinnacle of human evolution (at least I was in 1973). Everything should serve me!

But I don't believe that anyone is a product of time and chance. I do think some people fall for that lie. For the most part I haven't bought into such a lie, but I've rented it more than a time or two. It's a lonely way to live.

Really, though, I believe that God tapped my shoulder to serve, and I know I'm not alone in feeling a certain rightness and joy in His service. We pay good money for courtside seats so that the soles of our shoes can share a hardwood floor with those engaged in hour-long epic man-against-man struggles. Perhaps we do so to satisfy our souls’ needs to share in the human struggle. Courtside seats appease those longings without our having to get our hands dirty. They are like roller coasters, all thrills and no risk (unless you’re a Pistons fan.) I mean there is nothing wrong with spectator sports in general—though I question pro wrestling in particular—but just like anything else, their place in our individual lives deserves evaluation.

God offers so much more. He offers us playing time in a game with eternal stakes.

So when we know our eternal design and eternal purpose, when we recognize the real struggle, being by ones bedside isn't drudgery, it’s love and it’s privilege.