Sold Out

What’s more annoying than stepping up to the box office and hearing those hated words, sold out? Plans dashed.

Or how about Black Friday, after getting up way before dawn, and standing in lines and jostling a few rival shoppers, just to miss out on the fantastic deals?

We don’t like finding out that what we want is sold out.

The phrase also doesn’t bode well when we’re confronted with a person who has compromised their principles or double-crossed a friend for personal gain. We say they’ve sold out. No one likes a traitor.

Perhaps the negative connotations of the phrase sold out keep us from embracing the concept of being sold out for a good cause. Dedicating everything in your life to a singular, worthy, life-affirming call.

For instance, for Jesus. The One Who sold out for us.

In church yesterday, the Holy Spirit put a finger on the thin, red (I’m imagining it red for some reason) strand of rebellion that runs through the tapestry of my life, the one that keeps me from being completely sold out for Him. The one that lies to me and tells me that everything is fine, that I’m a good little Christian and that I’m doing plenty to serve my Lord and Savior.

Truth is, I’m far from being sold out.

I watched The Last Samurai the other day. Good flick, although it ranks up there with Glory and Saving Private Ryan as those difficult to watch. Anyway, it reveals that the word Samurai means servant. It was the precursor to the conviction I felt in church, because I admitted to myself that my life doesn’t show half of the discipline of the traditional warrior.

I don’t plan on becoming a samurai. I’m not sure girls are even aloud. And I don’t presume that anything I do will trump God’s grace or add to my kudos column or motivate Jesus to love me more or put me ahead of any of my brothers and sisters in Christ. None of those are valid or profitable reasons to serve. Actually, they negate the definition of service/servant.

My motivation has to be love… the unconditional, perfect kind Jesus offers me.

In a love relationship, service is a pleasure, a desire, and a joy.

The essence of being sold out.

Thanks for visiting Dry Ground this Monday before Easter!

(photos by photobucket.com)