Love Does Not Seek Its Own
It's been five years since Jordan and I were married. Over the last five years, we've both learned a lot of things. Like how fun it can be to sneak up to friends' houses in the dark and leave snow angels in their yard. Or the best way to clean newborn poop off a backpack. Or how unsuccessfully watermelon grow in North Dakota.
But one the biggest lessons I learned those first days of marriage is how incredibly selfish I am.
While I was trying to figure out something I could do to make our anniversary special for Jordan, I came up with two (what I considered really good) ideas:
And then, as I was preparing that slimy, pink salmon for baking, I was hit with yet another humbling realization. My husband loves seafood. And I, as his wife, have never made him seafood before. Because I don't like seafood.
And as these realizations dawned on my heart, I heard a faint whisper reminding me,
Sure, I could come up with excuses to not make Jordan pie in the previous five years. I don't like pie, and really, does the man need a whole pie to himself? No. So why not make something we both enjoy? And as far as the fish goes, the smell honesty repulses me. So why should I make something for him that I don't like?
But that's not the point. As I sliced those apples and smelled that fishy smell that tends to turn my stomach, I realized that my excuses were simply that. Excuses. Because love does not seek its own.
Every day, I'm reminded of my selfish nature. Of the need for Christ to dwell within me and live through me so that I might indeed love as He does. As He intends for me to do. To love selflessly. To put my husband's needs and desires above my own. To love my children sacrificially even when I am exhausted and just need a moment of quiet.
I am learning that:
Love makes apple pie even when she prefers a desert with chocolate.
Love reads "Goodnight, Daniel Tiger" for the fifth time that day and the 862 time in the last month even though she is incredibly sick of it.
Love opens her home to those who are lonely, far away from family even when she only knows their name.
Love rearranges her schedule and sacrifices her morning walk (gasp!) to serve where there's a need even though that's her favorite part of the day
Love spends quality time with her husband in the evening even though she'd rather consume an entire bowl of popcorn by herself while reading a novel in quiet.
Love makes seasfood . . . more than once every five years.
But one the biggest lessons I learned those first days of marriage is how incredibly selfish I am.
And I'm still learning that lesson. Every day. Even - especially - five years later.
While I was trying to figure out something I could do to make our anniversary special for Jordan, I came up with two (what I considered really good) ideas:
- Make Jordan an apple pie! He loves pie.
- Make Jordan fish for supper! He loves fish.
And then, as I was preparing that slimy, pink salmon for baking, I was hit with yet another humbling realization. My husband loves seafood. And I, as his wife, have never made him seafood before. Because I don't like seafood.
And as these realizations dawned on my heart, I heard a faint whisper reminding me,
"Love does not seek its own"
Sure, I could come up with excuses to not make Jordan pie in the previous five years. I don't like pie, and really, does the man need a whole pie to himself? No. So why not make something we both enjoy? And as far as the fish goes, the smell honesty repulses me. So why should I make something for him that I don't like?
But that's not the point. As I sliced those apples and smelled that fishy smell that tends to turn my stomach, I realized that my excuses were simply that. Excuses. Because love does not seek its own.
Every day, I'm reminded of my selfish nature. Of the need for Christ to dwell within me and live through me so that I might indeed love as He does. As He intends for me to do. To love selflessly. To put my husband's needs and desires above my own. To love my children sacrificially even when I am exhausted and just need a moment of quiet.
I am learning that:
Love makes apple pie even when she prefers a desert with chocolate.
Love reads "Goodnight, Daniel Tiger" for the fifth time that day and the 862 time in the last month even though she is incredibly sick of it.
Love opens her home to those who are lonely, far away from family even when she only knows their name.
Love rearranges her schedule and sacrifices her morning walk (gasp!) to serve where there's a need even though that's her favorite part of the day
Love spends quality time with her husband in the evening even though she'd rather consume an entire bowl of popcorn by herself while reading a novel in quiet.
Love makes seasfood . . . more than once every five years.
"Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others." - Philippians 2:3-4
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