Love, Faith, and the Tension of Choosing Well, part 1

At my parents house this evening I was leafing through some pictures that were sitting in the living room. These were pictures of various subjects: proms, vacations, baby photos, Christmas mornings, basically, what most people take pictures of, I suppose. I came across a picture of my wife and I sitting in a chair together. Obviously, the picture was somewhat posed, but there was something about it that stopped me in my tracks. Something profound stirred inside of me and I realized something.

I don't love my wife.

Let me explain before you call a lawyer and divide up my considerable estate.

You see, love is the most over-used words that we have in the English language. It has lost all meaning to the point where even telling someone that I love my wife seems vacuous and hollow, devoid of any depth of meaning or reality. I can't love Krispy Kreme in the same way that I love my wife. It's preposterous to even consider equalizing the two. As I gazed at the picture of my wife of almost 9 years (good Lord has it been that long?), sitting next to what can only appear to her as "second-prize," I realized another way of talking about my marriage, a way of talking about the depth of my spiritual, emotional, and physical involvement with my wife without cheapening it to the level of a donut.

I am in love with my wife.

Let me explain before you call me and complain about the two being exactly alike.

They aren't. Not by a long shot.

Love, in its infinite number of modern uses and associations, implies little more than an extreme form of liking, of giving my approval, of giving a great value to whatever the object of my love is, e.g., a donut or my wife. It is often mistaken for the feelings of lust that rise up in the untamed hormonal regions of the teenage brain, feelings they've never experienced before and have no language for, so by default they call it love.

Being in love, at least to me, suggests that I am in the middle of something deep and profound, something that involves my entire being, and affects change in me to the very core of who I am. Being in love implies a willingness to sacrifice, to die to self and exalt the object of the in-loveness. There is a covenantal commitment, unbreakable and eternal that is suggested in this simple turn of phrase.

There is something to this, don't you think?

After 9 years of marriage I can say that this has been the best year of our marriage in every way. After 9 years of marriage I'm more in love with my wife now than ever before, I've dived deeper into who she is (and she into me) than ever before, I'm willing to sacrifice more for her, work harder to provide for her, protect her and be gentle with her.

The word love by itself doesn't cover all of that ground for me. In love touches more deeply the emotional, spiritual and physical attachment that I have for my wife.

Segue into Jesus-y stuff...

How many people do you know who claim to love Jesus? Probably quite a few of them I would imagine. But of those people how many would you say, based on the above thoughts, are in love with Jesus? How about you? Do you love or are you in love with Jesus?

shalom, matt