Retweet.

In the Twitterverse, this would be considered a Retweet (more often denoted by 'RT'). That is, what I'm about to tell you is not an original thought but rather a re-telling of a truth that crossed my path today.

My mother teaches the College and Career class at my church, so when I'm home I dutifully attend. Some might see this as an obligation, but it just so happens that both of my parents are gifted teachers so I'm happy to have a place to go. My mother is a heck of a teacher. She is humble and unassuming, and she doesn't teach in hopes that people will walk away and tell their friends how godly and wonderful she is. I've watched her over the weeks prepare for the lessons, praying earnestly that God's voice and not hers will be heard by a college audience. This is a tough crowd and a walking paradox: they have all the answers but even more questions; they thrive on new-found independence, but most can't do their own laundry; thrilled to start over and establish a young adult identity all their own, they are ready and willing to base who they are on who they meet. College is terrifying; I haven't met a professor yet who openly believed in God, and a rare few who respect those who do any more than they would respect a student who lived out loud for the glory of the Tooth Fairy. Even Christians you meet on campus can prove challenging and scary: some demanding you label yourself Calvinist or otherwise, some convinced that God loves us and simply wants us to be happy regardless of our choices, and some protesting on public walkways (one group was well-known at AU for calling out "Whore!" and "Whoremonger!" to passersby...very. scary.).

My mom does an awesome job, in my [possibly biased] opinion. Today we're sitting in class talking about how life isn't about us. We live like we're the star of the show, like I'm Jen Aniston and God's some no-name extra... maybe, just maybe, a co-star, but obviously I have top billing because I'm Jen friggin' Aniston. The truth is, as Francis Chan beautifully illustrates in Crazy Love, this is the God Show and I'm nothing more than Extra #000120A. God created this Earth (Jen here wasn't consulted about the set change), flooded it (Um, a rewrite and no one asked me?!), rescues His chosen ones by SPLITTING A SEA OPEN (no special effects, no stunt doubles), and does a whole host of other nifty things, not the least of them sending his precious and perfect Son to die for Extra #000120A and all the crappy, miserable things she's done... oh yeah, and every other screw-up that has ever graced this planet.

But here I go, living like I'm the star, waving at fans that don't exist, smiling for flashbulbs that aren't going off, and chillaxin' in my trailer on the back lot... a slave to my pride. Meanwhile, the real Star hung on a cross to save my selfish soul.

Here's where the Retweet comes in; here's where I stopped nodding along and agreeing silently, here's what demanded to be revisited: Mom finished this example by asking guilty ears this: Do you think He got what He paid for?

We all hate getting ripped off. Anyone who's ever hit the Taco Bell drive-thru has experienced it: your mouth waters as you order that Mexican Pizza, and as you open your plastic sack a block down the road you find instead a burrito supreme. Or how about getting home from Target to find that the cashier you were inconveniencing with your presence charged you twice for your family pack of Easy Mac? And I love Old Navy's cheap trendiness as much as the next girl, but I don't love when the seams bust after just one wash. It's frustrating. It's inconvenient. It's not what I paid for.

Do you think He got what He paid for that day on the cross? Personally, I think He got the short end of the stick. I got eternal life: the promise of a perfect body, the delight of the marriage feast... I mean, really, perfect body and not worrying about calories at a feast: need I go on? Meanwhile, Jesus got us. Self-important, self-centered, screwed up us. And He's not infuriated, not even frustrated. He's patient and forgiving and merciful.

I don't understand it; it doesn't make sense to me that I should win this lottery... but perhaps I'll try to live like I'm grateful... maybe I'll try my best to make this outrageously generous purchase worthwhile. This is His show, after all, so I suppose He knew what he was getting into.

"In Him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins in accordance with the riches of God's grace that He lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding."
Ephesian 1:7-8

"You were bought at a price; do not become slaves of men."
1 Corinthians 7:23