Sacrifice

I heard a profound thought yesterday: service requires sacrifice. If sacrifice isn't necessary then the act is not service. Although I suspect that I inherently always knew this, hearing it stated so succinctly struck me. As usually happens in life, once I learn something, I see the idea in action all around me.

Christmas is supposed to be about service. We all hear it during this season. There's the idea that all the gifts in the world won't make us as happy as GIVING something to someone else. Being here in Germany, I think we have been rather self-centered--thinking of our desires whether they be places to visit or food to eat or sleep to get :-) However, in the last two days, things have turned the other way (whether we wanted them to, or not) and I have learned a lot.

Yesterday, I must admit that I didn't want to travel to Bitburg for church. It was over an hour drive and church began at 10 a.m. We had been non-stop travelling in the car for the last two days and I didn't relish the idea of being in the car again. However, John felt strongly that we needed to go, and I'm thankful that I was willing to go with him. We had the most wonderful time, catching up with old friends and feeling the wonderful spirit in the ward. However, when we went to leave, a fierce snowstorm had begun and we had the daunting task of driving home.

Driving in snow, or actually, being DRIVEN in snow, is one of the scariest experiences for me. I'm not scared in other ways in regards to driving. I drive fast, I drive at night, I even drive with no hands when I'm eating a yogurt. However, snow/ice is an entirely different matter, especially in Germany where a plowed road is a rare occurrence.

For the TWO AND A HALF HOURS it took us to get home, I was stressed beyond belief. I suffered three separate panic attacks during the time and was praying that we could just make it home. I was hoping beyond hope that Heavenly Father would understand the sacrifice that it had been for us to go to Bitburg. I think a lot of people's spirits were buoyed by our visit, and I prayed for the protection we needed to arrive safely back at the Morans'.

Fast forward to tonight. Since we arrived, we have planned on carolling with the Morans for Family Home Evening. Our hymns were ready, the fun songs were made even funner, and we even had our bell rendition of "Silent Night" memorized and ready to go. We set off early to hit the homes in our local village, and then headed for the base. Surprise, surprise (not really) it began to snow. It began to snow a LOT of snow.

We had several touching opportunities to sing for people who are either recuperating at Landstuhl Medical Center now or to their families who are anxiously waiting for their soldier family member to heal. There were tears shed and the Spirit was so strong. The Germans loved our carolling since it's not a tradition here, and we were so thankful to go. However, there was a lot of snow to drive home through.

It took us longer than the regular 30 minutes to get home and again I was a mess. However, I couldn't deny the gratitude I felt in my heart for having the opportunity to serve. When we were eating dinner, I tried to help the kids see what sacrifices we had made this evening: sacrifices of time (the whole experience lasted almost four hours--longer than the traditional FHE), gas money (a van and a car, loaded with people, driving for more than an hour), and sacrifices of peace (driving in the newly-fallen deep snow was a nightmare). What if we hadn't gone? Yes, we would have had more time to watch movies at home or play video games. Yes, we wouldn't need to fill up our cars with gas tomorrow, and most importantly for me, we could have stayed home and watched the beautiful snow fall outside our windows. If we had chosen the easy route, we wouldn't have seen the lives that were touched by our sacrifice. I wanted the kids to see that service does indeed require sacrifice, but in the end, it's always worth it.

We have been staying with the Morans for almost two weeks now. Having had visitors with large families before (including the Morans), I know how stressful it can be. There is so much food to make. There is so much more noise and mess in the house. People are displaced from their own bedrooms and routines for the comfort of the guests. However, this has been a trip to remember. Yes, the places we have seen have been fantastic, but for all of us, the sweetest memories have happened in this home. Midnight games of Siedler and Call of Duty, singing around the piano or playing the bells in the evening, playing "orphanage" in the basement and seeing our children form bonds with each other that are as close, or dare I say closer, than the bonds that exist between traditional families. Even shovelling bucketfulls of snow. The Morans' sacrifices for all of us have been the best example of service that I have seen in a long while. And the most amazing part to me in all of it? Not once have I seen a moment of frustration or regret because we are here. No complaints about the monkey wrench we have thrown into their lives. How blessed our family has been to be on the receiving end of so much loving service.

We will miss everything here, and we're all dreading our last day because it will lead to the day that we must leave. However, I'm so thankful for the opportunities that we have had to serve and to be served here, because really, that's what Christmas is all about.