"Everything Costs Something: When All You Have Left is Heart"

"The cost of purpose isn't always in what you pay––but in what you're willing to surrender when you have nothing left but faith."

Why Does Everything Cost Something, When Grace is Freely Given?

In a world craving convenience, we often forget that anything worth keeping requires something worth giving.

Whether it's love, commitment, healing, or calling––there's always a cost.

Yes, God’s love is abundant.

Yes, God's grace is given.

Yes, salvation is a gift.

We don't earn it. We don't buy it.

Just like someone can hand you the keys to a house for free––living in it, maintaining it, building a life inside it? That'll cost you.

Obedience? Calling? Healing? Purpose?

These cost us too.

Grace opens the door. Obedience is what keeps you in alignment. And growth is what transforms you.

God's love is unconditional. But loving Him back? That will stretch you. Not because God is cruel––but because weight requires preparation. The higher the calling, the deeper the breaking.

It’s a concept we've all wrestled with until life thrusts us into decisions we didn't always volunteer for. But perhaps this isn't punishment––it's sacred preparation .

Jesus spoke to this directly in Luke 14:28:

"Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Won't you first sit down and estimate the cost to see if you have enough money to complete it?"

This is what Jesus meant in Luke 14:28. Before you build, count the cost. Not because He wants to scare us away—but because He loves us enough to be honest: The life He’s calling you to is beautiful, but it’s not cheap. Grace is free but the way we respond to it matters. Growth will cost you comfort.

And again, in Matthew 22, Jesus shows us that being invited isn't the same as being prepared. One guest showed up without the proper clothes—unready, unbothered. He had access, but no reverence. God’s grace is free, but the way we respond to it matters.

Let's unpack both.

Luke 14: Counting the Cost in Modern Life

Jesus isn't saying salvation must be earned––He's warning us not to enter lightly. Jesus was preparing us. If you’re going to build something with God, you need to know what it will take. You may lose comfort. You may be misunderstood. But you’ll gain purpose.

Counting the cost isn’t a lack of faith—it’s the beginning of wisdom. It’s sitting with the weight before carrying the glory. Following Him means letting go of comfort, status, and at times, relationships. Practically speaking?

• Don't just post scriptures––live them, even when it's inconvenient.

• Don't just say yes to purpose––know it may cost your timeline, your friends, your old version of you.

• Don't just pray for calling––realize obedience might stretch your pride.

We count the cost not to discourage ourselves––but to prepare our hearts for when faith becomes expensive.

Matthew 22: The Invitation vs. the Response

In this parable (story), the king prepares a wedding banquet––a symbol of heaven and relationship with God. But the invited guest make excuses:

• "I have work."

• "I'm busy with my life."

• "I'm not interested."

The king invites others instead, sending the invitation to anyone willing to come––yet even then, one man shows up without the proper clothes and is turned away. Why? Because presence without preparation can miss the honor the moment deserves. The lesson?

Don’t accept the invitation and neglect the preparation. When God gives you access, honor it. Grace invites you in—but reverence prepares you for the table.

Modern takeaway?

• Don't ask God to open the door and show up spiritually undressed.

• Don't RSVP to purpose and ignore the process.

• Don't treat access to God like it's casual when it cost Jesus everything.

So What's the Cost Today?

• To heal, may cost your need to be right.

• To love, may cost your fear of vulnerability.

• To serve God, may cost your image, your plans, your pride.

• To say yes, may cost your comfort zone.

But what you gain––purpose, peace, eternity––is immeasurable and undeniably worth it.

Personal Reflection: When the Price Feels Too High

Right now, I'm wrestling with a tough decision—going back to school. Truthfully? I can’t afford it. If money wasn’t an obstacle, I'd leap without hesitation. But the price tag makes me feel stuck and honestly, inadequate. I’m asking myself:

• Am I making excuses like the guests in Jesus’s parables?

• Am I afraid of losing everything I've worked for?

• Is this new career path one that will truly honor God?

• Do I sacrifice the little security I have—my car, job, basic comforts—for tuition and uncertain hope?

I've known abundance, and I’ve known survival on $20 a month. At 18, I left home with faith and fire. Fearless. Now, in my 30s, I've found stability but with it, a deep awareness of true cost. This isn't about luxury—it's about memory. It's about knowing the layers of loss, the risks of faith, and understanding that saying yes doesn't always come with guarantees. Just grace. And right now, this grace feels costly and painful.

Faith is Expensive–But Grace is Abundant

Nobody warns you that faith might cost your comfort.

Your image.

Or your strength.

Nobody tells you that perseverance means crying in the shower, then going out into the world as if nothing is wrong––when inside, everything is unraveling.

Nobody tells you that trusting God might look like being broke, broken, and still showing up anyway. And yet, with a hint of dry humor, I've had whole conversations with God starting with: "Are You sure about this plan? Because it feels like I'm the unpaid intern in this storyline." But still, I hold on to this truth: God doesn't waste suffering. Pain, when surrendered, becomes oil––expensive, pressed, deeply useful. There is purpose in this––I just haven't seen it fully yet.

Closing Reflection: Why Everything Costs Something

Because in this world––value and sacrifice are deeply tied together.

Whether it's time, money, energy, vulnerability, or attention––everything worth having usually asks for something in return. Here's why:

1. Nothing is truly free––not even love

   Even love, grace, or kindness cost emotional availability, trust, or risk. You may not pay in dollars, but you pay in faith, patience, or healing.

2. Cost is proof of commitment

   When something cost you, it shows you're invested. That's what separates the things we value from what we take for granted.

3. We live in an exchange-driven world

   Spiritually, emotionally, and economically, there's a built-in rhythm of sowing and reaping, give and receive. Even Jesus said, "Count the cost." (Luke 14:28)

4. Cost produces clarity

   When something costs you––be it heartbreak, a lesson, or a dollar––you suddenly know its worth...or what it's not worth.

So yeah...everything cost something. The real question now is: What's actually worth paying for?

• Peace that remains even through uncertainty.

• A purpose aligned with your deepest convictions.

• Relationships rooted in genuine care and mutual sacrifice.

• Healing that brings lasting change rather than temporary relief.

• Obedience to God that yields eternal significance, despite earthly discomfort.

• Faith that grows stronger with every difficult choice.

These are things worth paying for—things that outlast temporary discomfort, anchor your soul, define your character, and reflect God's sovereignty.

When All You Have is Your Heart

Right now, I don't have it all together. Not financially. Not emotionally. Maybe not even spiritually. But I do have my heart. My tears. My willingness to keep going even when I don't know what "next" looks like. And maybe––maybe that's enough for God to work with. Because everything costs something. And sometimes, the most expensive offering is simply not giving up.

Closing Prayer

Lord,

You see us—the ones holding back tears behind tired smiles.

You know the weight we carry, the choices we can’t afford, the dreams we’re scared to speak out loud because of the cost.

To the one reading this who feels stuck, unseen, or on the verge of giving up—remind them they are not alone.

To the one crying silently at night, unsure of how to keep going—wrap them in Your peace.

Help us to trust You even when faith feels expensive.

When the bills are stacking, when the silence is loud, when the purpose feels too far out of reach—Be near. Be enough. Be God.

We offer You what little we have—our broken plans, our weary hearts, our mustard-seed faith. Make something holy out of it. Give us the strength to keep showing up, even when it hurts. And remind us that nothing we surrender to You is wasted—not the pain, not the tears, not the waiting.

You are still writing our story. And even now, You are worthy of our trust.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.