Day 117: A Hidden Message

For my 117th loving act, I fell asleep on the couch to the TV. (That might be hereditary: my parents haven’t finished a movie in years.) Actually, I did fall asleep, so I had to do yesterday’s act this morning.

For that act, I highlighted particular words in one of your magazines to form a love letter. I felt a little like John Nash (or the portrayal of him in A Beautiful Mind) as I combed your magazine trying to “discover” a secret message. When you find the note, I’ll write about your reaction.

My letter may seem odd (because it is), but I worked with what I had:

I heart you. I have joy in you. You are better than a beautiful picture and more valuable than the finest gold.

We are a unity. We recognize that dedication and faithfulness [to each other] comes as a direct result of his [God’s] grace. We give him all the glory.

Theodore Roosevelt once said, “A legacy of money is not honoring (but good for raising goats!). The sacrifice and devotion of a dude are a lasting contribution.”

The past reminds us where we have been, so that we know where we are going. [Let us] head to care and fellowship and service to one another.

I love that you’re my wife.

Disclaimer: I wouldn’t pass around that Roosevelt quote. Although, it might end up on Wikipedia; then you’d be safe using it.

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Day 116: Reflections on Sacrifice

On Sunday, I spent a long day at church, then had to work for several more hours when I came home. I didn’t want to commit my act of love for the day because I was so tired. The only thing that compelled me to commit it was my desire to be consistent with 365.

So, between working at church and home, I trudged up the stairs, bleached the bathtub, and prepared a bath for you. You didn’t want a bubble bath, so I left out the bubbles, but I did light a fragrant candle and place it by the tub.

I planned on watching the baby while you took your bath, but the baby was asleep, so my job was easy–to let you take your bath in peace. You did. You also gave yourself a pedicure. Then you came downstairs refreshed and relaxed.

365’s forced me to make changes to my day, and even my lifestyle, in order to show you (however imperfectly) love and kindness. These sacrifices, though momentary and light, have prompted me to reflect on Christ’s sacrifice for me. The personal and tangible nature of my (small) sacrifices has made me realize how personal and tangible his sacrifice was. Christ, a real person, gave up his position in heaven to suffer and die in space and time on my behalf. He felt the pain of whips, the weight of the cross, and the sting of nails; the pain of wrath, the weight of sin, and the sting of betrayal. Compared to his sacrifice, (understatement alert!) mine is negligible. But the point is, Christ’s love for me has become more real as I’ve felt some of the pain (and joy: more on that later) of serving you.

What’s more, my deeper understanding of Christ’s sacrifice for me has resulted in my greater desire to sacrifice for you. I suspect this cycle will continue—as I serve you more, I’ll understand better how Christ served me (my Lord served me? How unthinkable!), which understanding will compel me to serve you more.