That motherhood meme speaks to me – of course I’d die for my children, but do they really need me to make them a meal three times a day too?
The truth is that yes, being a mother seldom requires one life-giving act of heroism but it always requires choosing them over myself hundreds of times per day.
Growing up as the youngest child and the only girl, my stuff mostly remained my own in a house with two older brothers, so I didn’t have much practice learning to share or passing along my stuff to someone else.
But like so many other naïve notions I had before actually becoming a mother, I thought the spirit of self-sacrifice would be born along with my first child. In some ways, I thought the same would automatically happen when my father became wheelchair bound and moved back in with us so we could take care of him.
Although I certainly would say I’ve come a long way through those experiences, I wasn’t prepared for how many times a day I would have to die to myself for the ones I love — and how lousy I would be at it.
The same goes for my relationship with God, which is why I so frequently head to the confessional.
Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. (Matthew 16:24)
The hardest thing is that dying myself and taking up my cross isn’t about one act of love and sacrifice that I could possibly pull off; it is about countless instances of putting myself last every day of my life.
It’s an important reminder for me on this Good Friday, as the Catholic church encourages us to contemplate Jesus’ journey and crucifixion at Calvary where he paid the ultimate price for our sins.
His incredible sacrifice did not start with the Scourging at the Pillar – rather, Jesus made the decision to empty himself for his flock, every minute of every day of his life.
He died to himself each time he preached and performed miracle, often while his human body was surely exhausted.
The Son of God had no bed, no home, no wealth, and — in his final moments –nobody who would even claim his as a friend.
Still, Christ gave of himself completely and fully until he literally had nothing left but the blood and water that poured from his pierced side.
So while I would like to think that I would make a great martyr – it seems like a quick ticket to sainthood, after all – I’m terrible at dying to myself in all of those little ways.
Jesus gave us the roadmap to heaven through his example, and it turns out it’s so much more difficult than a single act of martyrdom.
To really love the way Jesus did on Calvary, I have to learn to love the way He did in every moment that led him up there — and sometimes that just means making dinner.