[Photo by Jennifer Hopper]
I love serving my wife.
She works tirelessly for our family, puts in more hours than I do, and doesn’t get nearly as many accolades as she deserves.
She also loves real espresso.
As a result I love serving my wife espresso, knowing it’s a small gesture, surprising her each morning with a little cup and saucer of yummy rocket fuel.
Sure, we could’ve gotten an insert-packet-push-button-machine, but something about seeing her face light up makes the added work all worth it. Plus, I very much like the process myself.
But what if her face didn’t light up?
What if she didn’t do anything for our family?
What if she wasn’t beautiful, didn’t love me back, and had no interest in ever getting to know me? Would I still be as dedicated and excited to serve her espresso just knowing she had value as a human being at large? Would I still be as faithful?
It’s easy to serve my wife. She’s remarkably fantastic. I benefit simply by thinking about her.
The real test comes when I ask myself how willing I’d be to serve espresso to strangers.
That want to get me fired.
And then find out where I live.
And crucify me.
It’s our behavior toward people whom we get nothing from that reveals what kind of leader we truly are.
It’s amazing to think that Jesus forfeit his life to serve a Bride that he knew may never recognize his efforts. And he felt just as strongly about serving the soldiers that executed him.
My espresso may be good, but my motives have a long way to go. ch: