I don’t do yard work — ever. The curb appeal of our house is solely on my husband’s shoulders, and it has been so for our entire marriage. I don’t think I have ever once planted a shrub or flower, and I’d rather have a tooth pulled than to bend over and pull weeds. If I want to spend time with my husband, and he is working outside, I come alongside him and talk to him as he works. Sometimes I will joke with my husband that I love him, but even I have my limits. Working in the yard is one of those limits.
My entire life I have disdained the cold. I don’t go skiing, sledding, or anything outside if I am required to put on gloves. The cold makes me grumpy, so it is easier for our whole family if I stay warm. My husband and my children know not to ask too much of me when it comes to outdoor activities if the temperature is below sixty degrees. I jest that while I love my family, even I have my limits and being in the cold is one of those limits.
Earlier this month, my children wanted to go outside to play after lunch. I gave the older ones permission to go out by themselves because it was too cold for mommy. My plan was to stay nice and warm inside with the younger children. Apparently, that was not a great plan for the babies, and somehow, we all found our way outside. It was gray and cold. The wind whipping around made the 40-degree weather feel much colder. I was not a happy camper. My children, on the other hand, were having a blast riding their bikes and playing tag. Knowing that I couldn’t bring them in from the fresh air, I randomly found Jason’s rake and thought I would gather some of the leaves in our yard.
I have never raked leaves in my life.
I’m pretty sure our neighbors must have thought that something horrible happened to Jason because not only was I outside on a cold day but doing yard work to boot. They might have been laughing at my novice technique because several kept coming over to ask if I needed any help. But, nevertheless, I carried on. The children continued to play, and I continued to rake. While doing so, I began to think of my phrase, “Even I have my limits.” Do I really want to have confines on my love for my husband?
No, I want a limitless love!
What if God placed limits of his love for us? What if he loved us, but didn’t love us enough to send Jesus? We wouldn’t have Christmas, for starters. Jesus could have chosen to remain in the comforts of heaven, where day and night he never stops hearing, “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty.” Yet, He chose to remove himself from perfection and be born as a baby and placed in a feeding trough! Scripture says that Jesus can sympathize with our weaknesses because he experienced temptation in every way, but remained without sin (Hebrews 4:15). He didn’t have to put himself through the trials of our flesh! Jesus died a horrific death on a cross, but the reality is he could have chosen not to take our sin upon himself. He did all of that, however, because he has a limitless love for each one of us! He knew we would never be able to atone for our sins on our own, and if his love had limits, heaven would be an impossible goal rather than a real and hope-giving promise. God would be a distant judge rather than one who sticks closer than a brother (Proverbs 18:24).
The eternal life that is available through Christ is evidence there is no limit to God’s love.
I want to demonstrate similar boundless love to my husband. My dislike of the cold or disinterest in manual labor should not prevent me from blessing or serving my husband. Jason’s love language is acts of service, and so when he came home to raked leaves, he felt loved and appreciated. Why have I waited eleven years to step outside of my preferences and put my husband’s desires first? I don’t want to wait that long again!
How do you display limitless love to your husband?