Worth Fighting For
"What did the vet say?" I said quietly over the phone to my husband, not wanting my young daughters to hear me.
"It's not good, not good at all. She said his lungs are almost completely affected. His chances for surviving are so slim that it won't be worth the fight or cost involved to save him. They recommend we put him down."
I could feel the lump in my throat get bigger as tears forced their way out of my tear ducts.
"But we just bought him!" I cried, suddenly hushing myself again. "But we just bought him!" I repeated through my breath.
"I know," my husband agreed. "And I'm just not ready to throw in the towel yet. We can't give up this fight so easily. I think we should take him to the emergency pet hospital and get a second opinion."
My heart grabbed for hope in that moment, wanting to believe there was still a chance for our little Yellow Labrador, Maximus. The pet shop said he only had kennel cough when we bought him. But within days it escalated into full fledged pneumonia.
A few hours later, my husband called again. This time from the pet hospital. I hurried into the next room again to take the call.
"So?" I said anxiously.
"Better news, but there's a decision we still need to make." he answered. "They are confident they can handle this and give him the treatment he needs to survive. But it's going to cost us."
The lump was back in my throat. Our finances were shaky as it was with me being a stay-home-mom. An expensive vet bill would be a true sacrifice for us.
"How much?" I asked, but not really wanting to know.
"Thousands. Like three thousand."
We both went quiet.
"We have to ask ourselves," my husband continued. "Is he worth it?"
I realized in that moment that it was a rhetorical question. How do we put a price tag on his life? There really was no decision to make. Maximus was worth fighting for.
Life is worth fighting for.
God thought so. He looked at the human heart. He looked at our desperate state. He looked at our sin, the “illness” that would inevitably lead to our eternal deaths. And with deep compassion and resolution, seeming to feel the way my husband did about Maximus’ life, we can almost hear Him echo my husband’s words: “I'm just not ready to throw in the towel yet. We can't give up this fight so easily...but it’s going to cost us.”
And boy did it. Instead of letting us die, He took it on Himself to pay it, making the ultimate sacrifice.
If we were to ask Him why, why sacrifice so much? His answer would be simple.
"It's not good, not good at all. She said his lungs are almost completely affected. His chances for surviving are so slim that it won't be worth the fight or cost involved to save him. They recommend we put him down."
I could feel the lump in my throat get bigger as tears forced their way out of my tear ducts.
"But we just bought him!" I cried, suddenly hushing myself again. "But we just bought him!" I repeated through my breath.
"I know," my husband agreed. "And I'm just not ready to throw in the towel yet. We can't give up this fight so easily. I think we should take him to the emergency pet hospital and get a second opinion."
My heart grabbed for hope in that moment, wanting to believe there was still a chance for our little Yellow Labrador, Maximus. The pet shop said he only had kennel cough when we bought him. But within days it escalated into full fledged pneumonia.
A few hours later, my husband called again. This time from the pet hospital. I hurried into the next room again to take the call.
"So?" I said anxiously.
"Better news, but there's a decision we still need to make." he answered. "They are confident they can handle this and give him the treatment he needs to survive. But it's going to cost us."
The lump was back in my throat. Our finances were shaky as it was with me being a stay-home-mom. An expensive vet bill would be a true sacrifice for us.
"How much?" I asked, but not really wanting to know.
"Thousands. Like three thousand."
We both went quiet.
"We have to ask ourselves," my husband continued. "Is he worth it?"
I realized in that moment that it was a rhetorical question. How do we put a price tag on his life? There really was no decision to make. Maximus was worth fighting for.
Life is worth fighting for.
***
God thought so. He looked at the human heart. He looked at our desperate state. He looked at our sin, the “illness” that would inevitably lead to our eternal deaths. And with deep compassion and resolution, seeming to feel the way my husband did about Maximus’ life, we can almost hear Him echo my husband’s words: “I'm just not ready to throw in the towel yet. We can't give up this fight so easily...but it’s going to cost us.”
And boy did it. Instead of letting us die, He took it on Himself to pay it, making the ultimate sacrifice.
If we were to ask Him why, why sacrifice so much? His answer would be simple.
“Because they are worth it.”
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