Strength in losing

I used to thrill to these words: “Whoever desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me. For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake and the gospel’s will save it” (Mark 8:34–35 NKJV).

This is the passage I was reading when, at age 35, God saved me out of a particularly sinful lifestyle. I counted everything “as rubbish, that I may gain Christ” (Phil. 3:8). In my zeal, I soon went to seminary and then straight to Japan as a missionary.

More than 20 years later, however, I felt that my zeal and passion were waning. I was getting easily annoyed, even angered, by everyday-type sins against me and the normal sacrifices I had to make. These were trials experienced by many in ministry or just in everyday life. A root of bitterness was springing up, and I wondered if I was headed toward burnout.

I noticed that underlying my stress was a sense of loss. I often had a mental calculation going on in my head: Was this worth the effort? Would I get compensated for that? Would there be any fruit from this sacrifice? I seemed to be tired of losing.

Certainly, before I became a Christian, I didn’t like losing. When I was growing up, calling someone a loser was one of the worst insults possible. In fact, I left the faith of my parents because I thought Christianity was for losers. I wanted to enjoy all the world had to offer. I assume it’s a common human trait to want to feel like a winner (even if it’s only to get a trophy).

But losing is a major theme of Scripture. Jesus calls it counting the cost: “So, likewise, whoever of you does not forsake all that he has cannot be My disciple” (Luke 14:33).

Verses like this began to scare me. Was I willing to lose everything for him all over again? Did I trust him with childlike faith? I had to admit I didn’t. I thought he might fail me as I got older. Was I going to wake up one day and realize that my ministry had been in vain? Was I going to end up without enough resources to take care of my son? Was I giving up too much compared to other people?

Distrusting God is a sin as old as the Garden of Eden. It was important to realize this was spiritual warfare. The Enemy would love nothing better than for me (and you) to give up. I could rationalize it in so many ways. I knew it wasn’t God’s will for me to burn out. On the other hand, I couldn’t continue the way I was in good conscience. Could God renew me, an older missionary?

The first step of repentance

In my mind, God was indifferent to my sinful feelings. After all, ministry is hard. Many years wear us down, and it’s normal to be concerned about the future and to get stressed out. But of course, the underlying sins of not trusting God and essentially wanting to take my life back were serious and revealed a heart of unbelief. My bitterness was displeasing to God and quenching his Spirit.

Most convicting, though, was recounting how generous God had been to me over the years and how much Jesus had lost for me. It contrasted so greatly with my lack of love and grace. I cried out for God to forgive me and to lead me to be more like him. This was the essential first step that allowed the Holy Spirit to begin to renew my heart.

Acknowledging trials and losses

Paul wrote, “Therefore, I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake” (2 Cor. 12:10). Paul took pleasure in his trials? That seemed to be the opposite of feeling loss. I started getting excited but then immediately thought—Well, my trials are petty and don’t count. I’m certainly not Paul, nor a house-church pastor in China, nor a refugee from Ukraine, nor someone with a very sick child, etc..

It’s good to resist self-pity. But by discounting my everyday trials, I was treating them as annoyances that needed to be solved, blips on my way to bigger and better things. And it wasn’t helping my response to these everyday trials. It’s not for us to put a value on our trials. How big is big enough? Only God knows the value of our trials because only he knows all he is doing through our lives.

Instead, I realized I needed to accept my small but constant trials as those that God has sent me for his purposes and to stop excluding myself from the many wonderful promises of Scripture. So I began reading those promises as though they applied to me—“For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory” (2 Cor. 4:17). “For My strength is made perfect in weakness. Therefore most gladly, I will rather boast in my infirmities that the power of Christ may rest upon me (2 Cor. 12:9).

These promises applied to me, too!

But the verses that helped me actually take pleasure in my trials were these: “We must through many tribulations enter the kingdom of God” (Acts 14:22). “Yes all who desire to live godly in Christ Jesus will suffer persecution” (2 Tim. 3:12). “And if children, then heirs—heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him, that we may also be glorified together” (Rom. 8:17).

If I had no trials and persecutions along the path of serving Christ, what would it mean? “Losses and crosses” are an essential part of our salvation. I could thank God for them all—small, medium, and large.

Looking for ways to lose

Jesus warns us about laying up treasures on earth and tells us to lay up treasures in heaven instead. I realized that perhaps with every loss for Christ, I was laying up treasure in heaven. So I began to ask myself, “How can I lose my life/time/money/self-centeredness in this situation?” It was a productive question. Of course, I’m not advocating having no boundaries or working feverishly to earn God’s favor. But I needed to do more than try to throw sin out. I needed to ask Jesus in and fight it proactively.

In the same vein, when something happened that felt like loss to me, I started looking for an opportunity for generosity. I had always loved the verse that says, “A generous man devises generous things, and by generosity he shall stand” (Isa. 32:8). Instead of focusing on how I could stop feeling loss, I thought of something the offending person would appreciate. This redirected my thoughts and led to more prayer. The first time I tried this, the result was that a woman living in my house readily agreed to do a Bible study with me. (Since I wrote this article, she has gone on to attend church regularly and is looking forward to baptism.) Then another woman joined us. The atmosphere in my house became full of love and joy. It has been one of the highlights of my ministry.

This leads to the last and most obvious point.

Loss is gain

It is one of the wonderful paradoxes of the Christian life that what may look like loss as we serve Christ is actually gain, often in this life and especially in the life to come. We all know this, though it’s easy to forget as the years go by. I love this quote by Arthur Pink speaking about the widow of Zarephath: “She was no loser by her generosity.”¹ Generously giving all she had brought great blessing to the widow, her son, and Elijah. I have been put to shame over and over again at how bountifully God rewards my pitiful attempts at generosity.

Perhaps one reason Jesus calls us to forsake all else is that he knows that will free us from the fear of loss. I believe that fear of loss keeps us from living in the peace that Christ promised. It may be the fear of losing money and material things or intangibles like respect, reputation, influence, freedom, comfort, enjoyment, and so on. But the willingness to lose is our strength in weakness. It’s what sets us apart and demonstrates the surpassing value of Christ to a watching world.

1. Arthur Pink, “The Life of Elijah,” Grace Gems, https://www.gracegems.org/Pink/life_of_elijah.htm (accessed December 18, 2024).