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Friday
Jul142006

Paying the Price

Leaving Chicago O’Hare Airport today, Bernie and I decided to go crazy and try to upgrade our ticket to fly First Class. We didn’t want to pay the $90 it would cost, so we decided to try to upgrade using our frequent flier miles. However the airlines have been doing this a lot longer than we have and they have it set up so that you can’t really get something for nothing. We could upgrade on the spot if we wanted to pay to become Gold Card members. As lowly non-precious metal type members, we would have had to apply in advance to try to do that. Lesson learned, if you want to sit somewhere other than economy, you have to pay the price. If you want to sit in first class, you have to pay the price.

As it turned out, this particular First Class was occupied by men who paid a price. We don’t know the cost of their ticket, but they were men returning from Iraq for a two week visit with their family after an eight month stint. While we were waiting at Gate K8, they were beautifully serenaded with “America the Beautiful� by an unnamed African American tenor. Once on board the captain introduced them to everyone and they were heartily applauded. When we arrived in Nashville, their luggage was the first to come out on the carousel.

The recognition and special treatment did not come without a price. Many of the men were greeted by their family with hugs and kisses, signs and balloons. But one young man was greeted by his wife, daughter and little son who was probably about 8-10 months old. His son didn’t know him. I watched as several times the daddy would hold out his hands, but his little boy would only bury his face in his mommy’s shoulder.

It was at that point that the words to the Twila Paris song, “How Beautiful� kept repeating themselves in my ear: “Willing to pay the price.� I couldn’t remember anything else of the song at that moment and had to wait until I could get Internet access and Google it. It was very timely to remember the rest of the song:

And as He lay down His life
We offer this sacrifice
That we will live just as He died
Willing to pay the price
Willing to pay the price

How beautiful the feet that bring
The sound of good news and the love of the King
How Beautiful the hands that serve
The wine and the bread and the sons of the Earth
How Beautiful, how beautiful, how beautiful is the body of Christ.


As we get ready to say final good-byes over the next three weeks, I needed to be reminded of this. I have determined that by His grace I will pay the price. The end is worth it. I am painfully aware, at the same time, that my determination requires others to pay a price as well. Not the price of leaving, but the price of giving up. Our family, our friends had no say, no vote in whether they would pay the price or not. It was chosen for them. Yet, my prayer for each one is that they too will offer up the sacrifice, willingly if not joyfully. I know that as they do, they will find peace. Amy Carmichael said it well, “In acceptance lieth peace.�

The families that waited in the airport for their soldiers didn’t all get a say in their loved ones going to Iraq. My intent is not to make a statement about the Iraqi war, except to say that freedom is not without a price. Nothing of value ever is. And I wonder if that soldier has been able to hold his son yet.





Reader Comments (2)

Renee, I'm going to have to make a note to self - always have kleenex handy when reading Renee's blogs.

Beautiful. Thank you.

July 15, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterBeth Knight-Pinneo

ditto!

August 1, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterStac

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