I don’t think my husband realizes exactly how much I love him. I wash the laundry, pay the bills, and even clean his bathroom. I make his lunch and cook his supper every day. I've even carried his children for goodness sake (which is by no means a walk in the park)!
I love him a lot. I love him enough to spend most of my day thinking of ways to take care of him and his family. So if love were solely based on housework, I would most definitely win the “I love you more” prize.
But the truth is…
My husband is more forgiving than me. I can hold a grudge for hours, sitting, stewing over some comment he didn’t make, but he instantly forgives me without being asked.
He always puts others above himself. He never spends money on himself. He even saves his birthday money so he can buy me nice things.
He’s kinder than I am. He always controls his tongue. Even when I smart off and say something I really shouldn’t. He never tries to “get even”. He just listens and quietly waits for me to apologize.
He goes out of his way to serve me. I can be standing in the kitchen, and he’ll get up and come get me a glass of water just because it tastes better when he makes it.
He never complains. He’s always willing to give up his time to watch Rooster so I can hide out somewhere and have a few minutes alone with my thoughts.
He never says, “I told you so”. Even when he did tell me so several times, and I just chose not to listen.
He doesn’t judge me or point out my faults (like spending too much time on the internet), but I know he prays for me. He sees those things, and loves me anyway.
And he talks to me about anything and everything. He listens to my concerns and suggestions. He tells me at least once a day how pretty I am, how much he loves me, and how I’m his best friend in the whole world.
Of course, this kind of love isn’t always easy for him. There are days when I know my husband doesn't feel like acting in love, and I don’t either. There are days we would rather fight, days we would rather be selfish, days we would rather just stay in bed and kick each other to see who gets up to tend the baby.
And especially on those days, he loves me more.
Not because of my charming personality, my good looks, or my brilliant culinary skills, but because while he may love me more, he loves Jesus most.
I’m one blessed woman.