I'm starting to realize that loving people entails a lot more in life than I thought.
A lot more of myself.
This is most certainly what my flesh works to resist.
Love is sacrifice--that much my Savior Jesus has taught me, if anything.
However, what that looks like when tensions run high in the family space...well, it seems like it's a different story.
What if it's not though? What if the act of love is still going and washing your dishes without saying anything?
Or doing those things that aren't even an act of service, but are just nice gestures?
Hm. This is going to be harder than it looks.