Jackson Free Press

"Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves."
– Phillipians 2:3, NIV

I'll admit it: I'm a selfish only child. I want things my way. I like to have the last word, and I'm not impressed easily. You should have seen my toy room as a child (yes, an entire room devoted to nothing except my toys); Pops bought out the toy store regularly, and I still never understood why other kids were gaga to play at my house.

Then something happened about five years ago: I fell in love. I'm not talking about teen-fling, puppy love, or one of those fatalistic affairs that leaves you holding your breath and gnashing your teeth and crying your eyes out all while laughing hysterically. I found mature love full of respect and courtesy, "Thank you" and "I'm sorry" and a heap of passion and absolutely no regrets. This mature love has tamed the selfish beast that lives in me. Of course, it's an ongoing process, but I'm making amazing progress.

Example 1: I don't sleep nearly as much. Sleep was sacred in the old days. Mom and I would compete with each other in marathon sleeping matches, staying tucked away in our respective boudoirs until 2 p.m. on Saturdays. Now I awake at 7 a.m. to the sounds of cartoons flooding the bedroom and contentedly roll over and inquire about the "Recess" gang's most recent morality lesson or "The Proud Family's" latest misadventure.

Example 2: I edit papers when I'd rather be watching TV or working on my own projects. With my husband in a doctoral program, I've been enlisted to serve as editor to his never-ending procession of papers. I enjoy reading the papers—some of them anyway—and it's honing my editing skills. However, I'm losing sleep … and couldn't be happier (I have issues with sleep, don't I?) I'm so proud of my husband and want him to do well that I gladly stay up until 1 a.m. to peruse his work for typos when I could be working on my own projects.

Example 3: I'd share the last spoonful of my Snickers Blizzard. Luckily my husband hasn't asked. Some things are sacred. But if he did, I'd gladly hand over the spoon.
More important than losing a little sleep or sharing ice cream treats, this mature love has taught me how to love my husband unconditionally and is shaping my other relationships as well. I realize that love is a gift. It sure ain't guaranteed, and no one is obligated to give us the love we think we deserve. Sure, we expect it from folks like our parents and friends. Remember though: They're human; they'll let us down sometimes. We've got to be able to bounce back and share the love whether it's reciprocated or not. Please, my friend, don't be a doormat. But don't limit the wealth and abundance of happiness lurking inside of us because we're too proud and too selfish to let go and love in spite of it all.

Yes, the selfish beast rears her ugly head every now and then; my husband would certainly "Amen" that sentiment. He would also assure you that this beast is really a pussycat. I complain and pout on a regular basis, but in the end, I put others before myself.

My husband and I will celebrate our third wedding anniversary in July. It seems like we've been together a lifetime, yet I hope we have an eternity still to come. I finally found a man who loves to love me. And I'm selflessly devoted to loving him. That's what love can do.