Count the Cost Because Everything Comes with a Price
Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom
“Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom” — (Psalm 90:12 (NIV).
I remember sitting on the filthy floor of the Philadelphia airport next to a men’s bathroom and a smoothie stand because it was the only outlet in the entire concourse I could find that worked where I could charge my cell phone.
I was stuck at that airport for eight hours and through a miracle made it home by midnight. All I could think was, “If anyone thinks traveling for work is glamorous they should see me now.”
The problem was there were many more unglamorous and exhausting moments like this than there were fun moments.
Sure, a few times I did fun things or had the opportunity to see a part of the country I hadn’t seen before, but the trade off was I was hardly ever home. My children were growing up and I didn’t know that we would soon be living 1,800 miles away from them.
My husband sat alone in the evenings while I watched reruns in hotel rooms.
I had a beautiful home but I was hardly ever there and couldn’t enjoy it!
Learn to count the cost along the way
When I was home all I felt was stress at the undone projects around me or the need to get back to work to catch up on one. more. task.
There are endless ways we can complicate and stress our lives. But I think the story always ends the same way: exhausted and empty, wondering what all the striving and toiling accomplished.
Jesus tells us to count the cost of what we’re building. Luke 14:28
And it’s prudent to take inventory along the way.
Everything comes with a price
The hit television show, Once Upon a Time wove fairy tale characters into reality and told the drama of familiar heroes like Prince Charming and Snow White as they tried to lift the curse that had damned them to our world and kept them from the lives they were supposed to be living.
Each time the characters in the story needed some magic to fix a problem or overcome a villain, they would turn to Rumplestiltskin who possessed the strongest magic available. Rumplestiltskin always warned each buyer of the magic to never forget that “All magic comes with a price.”
What he was talking about was not the gold coins they had to hand over for the magic potion but what the answer to their need or desire was going to cost them in terms of choice, consequence, and life. It was the classic warning of “Be careful what you ask for.”
The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it. — Henry David Thoreau
Each time I heard Rumple crackle and sneer, “All magic comes with a price.” to his naive customers, the vision of me sitting on the floor next to that men’s restroom at the Philly airport appeared in my mind. It became symbolic of all I had traded for at a time in my life when I naively believed there was no cost and only gain.
Sometimes, when doubt or regret would assail my mind and sleep would elude me, I would tell myself that the cost was small, or the cost could be recouped, or that I didn’t have a choice and I had to pay the cost, but deep inside I knew those were lies.
Look for the arrows
Arrows would appear as signposts along the way, pointing me back to my true north. Sometimes I would follow them for a while but quickly get back to the road more traveled. Some arrows I ignored, choosing to store them away to pay attention to later.
And all the while the cost was mounting.
Payday was coming but I was in denial
One arrow came in the form of a retired teacher who had recently returned to work. He told me of his plans for retirement, how he and his wife had carefully plotted out their teaching careers with the intent to retire and travel together. Just weeks after their mutual retirement, as the ink was drying on the plane tickets to Italy, she was diagnosed with cancer and months later she was gone.
The trips untaken, the memories unmade, the plans brushed aside, and the cost was counted.
Another arrow pointed from my mom’s sad face to my heart when she said the words I will never forget, “I always wanted to go to Hawaii.” In declining health and the throes of dementia, her dreams were now just that, with no potential for reality. Her cost was high — regret. Her choice had been fear and it had exacted a high toll on her life.
The arrows kept coming as the cost kept mounting
The chronic neck pain and daily headaches that pointed to the need to slow down and rest. The cost was crippling in terms of time, therapy, pain, and limitations in life.
Once I posted this on Facebook: “I hope Neil Young was right when he said it was better to burn out than to fade away because I’m about to find out.” Where were the arrows that day?
The son who got in trouble at school and maybe needed more attention than I had been giving. That arrow pointed back to my heart.
What did I value? What was I living for? What was important? What were the things that mattered most? Was I counting the cost?
Eventually, the arrows couldn’t be ignored and the piper demanded to be paid.
There was no magic that could transport me back in time to make wiser choices, to convince me to be present more and work less, to whisper to me “read the story now do the dishes later.”
The magic power of now
I had no magic potion and no Rumplestiltskin to turn to. I only had the power of now and the magic of clarity. As Oprah calls it, my Aha moment came when I was no longer willing to pay the cost.
I could choose to follow the arrows now
I could stop trading magic for memories and rust for relationships. I could trust in the power of now and learn the importance of presence.
Disillusioned with the choices I had made, I surveyed my surroundings with discontent and began to do the most logical thing I could think of: I began painting the walls of my home.
I had no clear plan of how I would extricate myself from a life that was costing way too much but I knew it began with freedom. Sell the house, seek financial freedom, and the rest would follow. And it has.
When is the last time you counted the cost of what you are paying in terms of the amount of life you give away to things that burn out, rust, and are unable to be placed in your heart? Remember, everything comes with a price.
If you’re weary of giving your life away to things that don’t matter to you, join the women of Simple Life Simple Faith.
This story is published in Koinonia — stories by Christians to encourage, entertain, and empower you in your faith, food, fitness, family and fun.
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