Rob was away recently for work. The day he returned I thought a lot about serving and honoring him-an area I really want to grow in.
I thought, as I went about the day, that serving him was being diligent to clean the house, doing extra things I don’t normally get to. I thought it was making myself presentable and putting on a dress I know he likes. Serving was preparing a nice dinner, and starting it in plenty of time so it would be ready when he walked in the door. I thought it was to welcome him with hugs and kisses and let him know how glad I was to have him home.
But, when he came home, while happy to see us and thankful for all that we had done to get ready for him, he had food poisoning, couldn’t eat the meal and went to bed shortly after he walked in. I learned how selfishly-motivated my serving had been because when I did not receive the benefits I had imagined would result from my serving I was very disappointed.
Serving became lovingly tending him in his intense pain, denying myself the pleasure of his company and allowing him to leave the table while I fought to maintain an uncomplaining cheerful attitude and enjoy the meal with my children. I learned that while all the other things I did could be considered serving, the real goal is to do the right thing with a joyful heart even when it costs me or I don’t get what I want.