Counting the Cost

What is takes to follow Jesus

“Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:27)

When I read Jesus’ words they stop me in my tracks. This man doesn’t mince words. He isn’t trying to win followers with promises of an easy road. No. Instead, I feel as though He is looking me straight into my heart and says, “If you’re coming with me, you need to know this will cost you everything.” (gulp)

At first, those words sting. Everything, Jesus? Every-thing? Does this mean my family, my friends, the job I love? Does this even mean my own sense of control? I need to think about this, because it feels like it is too much! But when I take a beat, and ponder this further, I understand that deep down this is what my soul longs for: a faith that is not shallow or half-hearted, but whole and constant.

Because the truth is, my own ways have never been enough. I have been known to chase the approval of others. I’ve been known to choose comfort over any sort of suffering or sacrifice. And I find myself empty again and again. I do this even though I can recall the times I have made the effort to put Jesus first, and carry the cross that something shifts within me. The surrender that once terrified me opens a space for, and I feel anchored and secure. Yet I still struggle with fully surrendering Him.

Jesus compares this surrender to a builder counting the cost, or a king considering battle. He doesn’t want me to stumble halfway through, discouraged because I never understood what this journey requires. He wants me to see clearly: following Him is costly, but it is worth it.

You want to know the best part? That when I give Him my “everything,” I don’t end up with nothing. I end up with Him. And with Him, I discover who I truly am, what I was made for, and why my life matters. My life has meaning and purpose. He has a plan that is just for me and I need to carry that cross for that plan to be revealed. The only thing holding me back is me wanting to do things my way.

I need to remember that the cross that Jesus asks me to bear is not unusable suffering, it is a metanoia--a transformation. Just like the metamorphosis we see when a caterpillar becomes a butterfly, it is where my old self dies so that something more beautiful, more alive, can rise.

So today, as I sit with today’s Gospel reading, I ask myself: What am I still clinging to more tightly than I cling to Christ? What do I fear losing, when He has promised that in Him, I gain life itself?

Following Jesus is not meant to be easy, but it is the only road that leads to meaning. It is the only love that is strong enough to carry me through this life and into eternity with Him. And even as I count the cost, I realize that He already paid the greater price for me.

Lord Jesus, Your words are hard, but they are true. You ask me to give You everything, and I confess that I often hold back. Give me the courage to surrender what I cling to, and the trust to believe that in losing myself, I will find life in You. Teach me to carry my cross with love, to count the cost with honesty, and to follow You with my whole heart. May I never forget that You first carried Your Cross for me. Amen

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