January 15^th. With one final sweeping curve I departed Launceston’s outskirts and accelerated down the long, black stretch of the Midlands Highway. The engine hummed and morning rays stretched their glowing fingers over lush paddocks. A flock of cockatoos, snowy white and pale sulfur, winged gracefully over a clear blue canvas, their raucous squawking bringing a smile to my face. Funny birds! Thank you, LORD. What a gift! He knew how much I revelled in watching birds soar—so triumphant, so free!

My eyes dropped to the silver tailgate of Mark’s car just ahead of mine, memories rolling through my mind like an old home movie. Another day two years before. Three Browns; two cars. Mark in his car, Esther and I together, our cat in a cage on the back seat. Long hours, many hours passing bustling suburbs and iconic country towns on the road of adventure into a new season. There was grief in that journey—two of our children had stayed behind—and our hearts bled as the distance between us grew. Still, we took comfort in the three we were as we prayerfully ventured forth. My daughter and I sang, swapped stories and talked through our emotions, wondering what God had ahead.

Now there were two Browns. And I was driving alone.

God, I can’t believe I’m doing this! Again! A sob swelled in my chest, rising like a mounting wave, clogging my throat and pricking my eyes with tears. This time, when God’s call came to move, our youngest—fresh out of school—chose to stay behind. And I wasn’t ready!

Jesus died.

The words came as clearly as if spoken aloud, reverberating through my aching heart and pausing my lament.

Jesus.Died.

‘Oh, God!’ I whispered, inhaling sharply as I pictured Jesus hanging on the cross. ‘You get it! Your Son died!’  I swallowed, tasting for the first time the pain God endured when He sacrificed His son so I could know Him. Unlike Jesus, my daughter wasn’t dead. She was well, settled in a lovely, peaceful home with good company, and enjoying her first taste of independence. We would only live three hours apart. Still, my mama heart ached.   

The cross image faded and another formed: Mark and I standing on a platform in dark suit and white silk gown, eyes closed, heads high and faces aglow, singing, ‘When I Survey the Wondrous Cross’. I drew in a long breath and exhaled through pursed lips as I watched the scene unfold, stunned by the purity—and naivety—of my devotion in that moment. Did I understand then how costly obedience could be? It felt like a lifetime since that day. Could I sing that song now with the same conviction?

Another deep breath, a lowering of my shoulders and I began. Eloquent words of wonder, reverence and surrender penned three hundred years ago carried from my lips, each inscribed on my soul as I voiced them. Jesus—the Prince of glory—died! He bore the weight of all myfailures and the punishment I deserved, surrendering His body, soul and spirit to suffering beyond my comprehension. Jesus knew how painful obedience could be. He knew! And He was with me in my grief.

I reached the crescendo, my heart weighing each word as they poured from my lips.  

‘Were the whole realm of nature mine,
that were an offering far too small.
Love so amazing, so divine,
demands my soul, my life, my all.’

There it was—perspective. Even if I owned the whole world, it would not be enough to repay God for His gift to me.

CT Studd’s words rang in my ears,

‘If Jesus Christ be God and died for me, 

then no sacrifice can be too great for me to make for Him.’

What option did I have? Jesus had given His all for me. How could I not surrender my life in return?

I sang the last line again—and again—nodding slowly as I stared down the highway into an unclear future. ‘Yes, LORD. You are worthy.’

His response was immediate. And just as I have led you this far, I will hold you all the way. Your family too. All is well, darling. And all will be well. Trust Me. I’ve got you. All of you. And I am working all this for good.

‘If anyone would come after me, they must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.’

Matthew 16:24-25

‘In all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.’

Romans 8:28