I Corinthians 13:13
He claims hope for me, and I cling to his faith. But it is the love, the love that is the strong foundation when my insides quake.
He interrupts himself for me. Stays up to rub my sore shoulders. Sneaks the heating pad under the covers of my side of the bed to make sure it is cozy for me. Washes night dishes so that I can catch up on work. Brings me water as I type. Sets the coffee pot timer for my wake-up. Lets me chatter away about things that don't really matter (but yet they do). Waits with me, as I wait for breakthrough.
I remember during our premarital counseling, talking about the love languages, using diagnostic testing to figure out how to love the other well. The ten-years-ago me would never have believed that Mark washing dishes would be such a love-tank filler, something so acts-of-service to a quality-time girl. Yet it's not the actual act of service, but the heart of it - the self-interruption, the self-sacrifice, the proof of the pudding that this faith, hope, and love are real.
But the greatest of these is love.
Love this, thanks for sharing.
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