I’ve been giving a lot of thought lately into what “falling in love” means. As if it’s this thing that just happens to us instead of us to it. As I sat this morning drinking my coffee and eating my breakfast trying to wrap my head around it, I thought about how I feel about adoption. Stay with me, you’ll see the parallel. I’ve often viewed adoption as superior to child-birth in some ways, namely that of the all-out choice of that child versus one you birthed/hatched yourself. Doesn’t mean you love one or other less or more, but there’s definitely more intentionality in adoption than in childbirth and I think that’s why Biblically that’s the analogy that’s used more often in regards to Christ’s view of us versus a more traditional “father-child” relationship. That all said, why then when we speak about love do we relegate it to this thing that happens to us?
“I fell in love.”
“I fell out of love.”
It removes the very decision making that I think carries the weight of the act itself! I chose to be in love with my wife. Hell, I currently CHOOSE to be in love with my wife! It doesn’t merely happen to us as if by chance! Kimberly and loving her come as a very real choice daily for me as much as I do for her (and you can guess which one of us has the harder job in choosing there).
And this leads to the how I choose to love her as well. In choosing to clean the dishes…in choosing to do the laundry…in choosing to no excuse or defend my selfishness, lay down my own pride and just apologize. Do I do it every time? Hell, no. I’m still human, but the recovery of these bouts of selfishness is yet another choice to love my spouse. I don’t “fall into” or “out of” anything with her. I must continue to intentionally choose her as much as I am chosen. That’s the calling.