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What’s Really Worth It? Learning to Count the Cost of Discipleship and Follow Jesus


McDonalds value meal

As I ran on the treadmill, scanning the five mounted televisions before me at the gym, I searched for one to focus on—anything to distract me from how much I hate running. Then a commercial caught my attention: a double cheeseburger value meal… complete with bacon, chicken nuggets, french fries, and a large drink.


After fully appreciating the irony of the moment, I started thinking about what the true cost of that “value meal” would be for me. Other than running an additional—oh, I don’t know—fifteen miles, I considered the other potential costs.


Firstly, fast food is expensive these days. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but gracious—what in the world?! And secondly, I’ll spare you my midlife, perimenopausal woes, but let’s just say things that once processed fine now come with a price.  Don’t get me wrong, I can demolish a big, juicy burger with all the fixings—soggy bun and all—but if I’m going to do it, it’s not happening anywhere that starts with Mc or ends with King.  


That question—Is it worth it?—has been showing up in other areas of my life, too.


There was a time when staying up late with friends, talking and laughing into the early hours at overnight retreats, was worth every ounce of sleep-deprived haze the next day. (My friends reading this are probably raising an eyebrow right now—because let’s be honest, they’ve only ever known me to consider 9 p.m. the middle of the night.) Somewhere along the way, though, I realized it worked better for me to call it a night and wake up early for coffee and conversation instead.


It’s funny how the older we get, the more we understand that everything has a cost. Jesus talked about this— not in reference to sleep cycles or metabolism — but discipleship.


“For which of you, desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to complete it?” — Luke 14:28


Jesus’ words here are a clear call to count the cost of discipleship—to pause and consider what it truly means to follow Him, not just in belief but in daily obedience.


As believers in Christ, our faith journey begins when we confess with our mouths and believe in our hearts that Jesus is Lord. That’s the beautiful beginning—but it’s only the beginning. Following Jesus means learning to follow — to evaluate what obedience really requires: time, energy, reputation, comfort—and to choose Him anyway, because He’s worth it.


In my younger years, I was quick to chase what looked like a “value meal”—instant gratification, comfort, or approval that promised satisfaction right away. But the longer I’ve walked with Jesus, the more I’ve learned that not everything labeled valuable is actually worth it.


Counting the cost doesn’t make life dull—it makes it purposeful. It teaches us to invest in what lasts: peace over pleasure, integrity over impulse, presence with God over the illusion of more.


Here’s the beauty of it all: following Jesus costs us something — but it gives us everything. Yes, discipleship asks us to lay things down. Comfort. Control. Reputation. Pride. But whatever we surrender is never wasted— it’s traded for something far better.


When we give up what the world calls valuable, we gain what the world can’t offer: peace that holds steady in chaos, joy that endures through pain, and purpose that outlasts every season. Jesus doesn’t ask us to count the cost because He wants to make faith harder. He invites us to count the cost so we can see the value of what we’re really gaining.


“Whoever loses his life for My sake will find it.” — Matthew 16:25


When we finally grasp that truth, obedience stops feeling like loss—and starts feeling like freedom.

And maybe that’s the real invitation Jesus is giving us: to pause before we say yes, to weigh what we’re giving our hearts to, and to ask whether it leads us closer to Him or farther away. Not everything that looks good, feels good, or sounds good is actually good for the soul.


These days, I’m learning that following Jesus means choosing the slow obedience that no one applauds. Saying no to what drains me — even when it’s “good.” Creating space to sit quietly with the Lord instead of constantly producing or pleasing. Choosing His approval over everyone else’s. Because I’m realizing that peace with God always costs something—but the trade is never loss, it’s freedom.


Daughter of God, I encourage you to take a moment today to ask yourself:

  • What “value meals” in my life look good but leave me empty?

  • Where am I saying yes to things that cost me peace with God?

  • What would it look like to count the cost before I say yes—so I can choose what truly matters?


Lord, help us to see what’s worth it.  

Teach us to count the cost and choose You every time.

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