Loss = Gain

We befriended a family after the mother bought an item I’d advertized in the local paper. Doreen (not her real name) had been abandoned by her husband and left to take care of a very large house and six children. The two smallest boys were a handful and literally wreaking their home. She was unable to work due to a disability and had all kinds of other problems, a stubborn attitude combined with an “I’m always right” defensiveness among them.

Doreen’s bankrupt spirit showed up in another area the day we went grocery shopping together. The boys wanted pop and junk food, so she filled her cart with it. We were almost to the checkout when I reminded her that they also needed meat, vegetables, milk and bread. I think of her sometimes when I read Isaiah 55:2, “Why do you spend money for what is not bread, and your wages for what does not satisfy?”

Doreen was a confused and unhappy woman. She tried to fill the void in her life with trivia and junk food too, but it was not working, nor could she see it or, if she did, she would not admit it.

What a contrast to the Apostle Paul who listed all the status symbols in his life, then said he considered it all worthless. He says in Philippians 3:7-9, “But what things were gain to me, these I have counted loss for Christ. Yet indeed I also count all things loss for the excellence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them as rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in Him.”

As I plowed through the stuff in my studio yesterday, the idea of worth vs. worthless often ran though my head too. What good is even ‘very good’ stuff if it is not being used? How valuable are a couple dozen expensive paintbrushes if they never get dipped in paint? What price can be put on shelves of books that are collecting dust?

My pragmatic side made progress as I filled trash cans and giveaway boxes. The Bible uses the phrase “suffer the loss of all things” but I didn’t feel suffering; I felt lighter, more free. This is only stuff, things that will not last (nor will I outlive them). I will get far more pleasure seeing someone else use the useable items than any joy I had with them stacked around my house.

In other words, I’m hoping my loss of all things is gain for someone else. I spent money on a whole lot of stuff that has not done a thing for me or for anyone because of me. Now it is time to put that stuff to work, or get rid of it. The tradeoff is enormous. I am free from the tyranny of it yelling, “Use me” and the guilt that can only answer back, “But I’ve no time!”

In Paul’s case, the loss of all things meant gaining Christ. Perhaps that will be part of my gain too. Without all that noise in my head, who knows what He might say to me or give me to do? There is freedom to better hear Him, and that is a huge gain.

As for Doreen, I’ve lost touch with her. The last I knew she had remarried and moved to another state. But before that, we had a long conversation about our deepest needs. She realized that she needed Jesus and invited Him into her life. He answered her prayer and filled that great void that junk would not fill. Jesus set her free from her confusion and gave her a fresh start.

For me, Doreen and Paul both illustrate how loss of all things might mean different things to different people, but gaining Christ is the same for everyone. He fills our lives with Himself, and despite losing all things, we gain far more than we could ever imagine. Paul never dreamed that giving up his prestige as a Jewish rabbi would mean he would become a major player in Christ’s work of building His church, or a major author of the Christian New Testament. I’m sure he often shook his head in amazement at this gain that came from loss.

Doreen gave up her pride, self-righteousness, and her own efforts to make her life meaningful. I’m sure she too delights in the trade: new hope, a new family, and peace in her heart.

Yesterday’s cleaning is only a small part of the “losing all things” that I’ve experienced. For me, the gain is so great that I can hardly recall the losses. Jesus fills my heart with joy, makes sense of even the darkest trials, and gives me a meaningful to-do list that fits in with His work of kingdom building. This is truly the “abundant life” (John 10:10).

If getting rid of some clutter only symbolizes this great exchange, I’m still better off with the loss. I know that in God’s way of working, if I feel any void from yielding this ‘stuff’ to Him, He will bountifully fill it with something far more meaningful.