"Anything You Need, You Got It"
The following was written for a devotional booklet compiled by my church last summer. Based on I Corinthians 13:5, "[Love] . . . is not self-seeking . . . "
Anything you want, you got it.
Anything you need, you got it.
Anything at all.
~ Roy Orbison
[Love] doth not seek its own things . . . ~ I Corinthians 13:5 (Young’s Literal Translation)
At the time George and I got married, he owned a 1958 AMC Rambler Custom. He’d had it since his college days. Her name was Minnie, after her previous owner. A large car by today’s standards, the four-door had an incredibly spacious interior, with front bench seat and ample legroom. No seatbelts. The back of the front seat was split, so that each side could be laid back to create a sleep space for camping. The car was a taupe/cream (or more specifically, Cinnamon Brown and Alamo Beige) two-tone with chrome trim and tail fins. When we’d take it out, we’d always draw impressed, interested, or admiring glances from others on the road. One of my very favorite pictures of George is one of him posing with the Rambler. He was very proud of that car.
We took it on drives here and there when we were dating, though I never had the chance to drive it myself. Shortly after we got married, a piston rod bent and had to be replaced. The car sat for years awaiting repair. I often asked George what the good was of having such a car when we couldn’t afford to have it repaired in a timely manner. Eventually, after a couple of years, he finally was able to get the rod fixed. After that, the car sat in our one-car garage. It was in need of other repairs-a new fuel line, among other things-and we simply weren’t getting much use out of it. I’d often suggest that he sell it to someone who could afford the repairs and enjoy the car. We could use the money, after all. I was, perhaps, not always gracious or tactful in making this suggestion, I’m sorry to say.
One day, George surprised me when he told me he’d found a buyer for the Rambler. He had approached a couple he knew through his parents. He thought these people might be interested in purchasing Minnie. They loved the Rambler, and George knew they’d repair it and take proper care of it and enjoy it more than we could. As we sat on the porch step and watched the Rambler drive away, I asked George why he had finally decided to sell.
He put his arm around me and told me that I was more important to him than the car was.
Whenever I think of “love is not self-seeking,” this is what comes to mind-my husband, parting with one of his most prized possessions (and investments) because I’m more important to him.
The Amplified Bible says it this way:
“Love (God's love in us) does not insist on its own rights or its own way, for it is not self-seeking.”
Simply put, love means placing the interests and welfare of the loved one before one’s own.
As I write this, George and I are applying to adopt a child. I wonder almost daily whether or not I have enough love-that kind of self-sacrificing love, the love that is not self-seeking-in me to be a good mother. I am, by human nature, selfish. I often wonder if I have the capacity to love the way a child needs to be loved. The way my friends need to be loved. The way my family needs to be loved. So often I feel like I fall short. I can’t do it on my own.
God, in both the person of God the Father and the person of God the Son, vividly demonstrated for us what it means to love self-sacrificially, to place the welfare of the beloved above His own rights. God the Father did what was best for us rather claim His right as Creator of the Universe to destroy us for our sin. Rather than demand our own blood, which He could easily do, He provided His people with a system of sacrifice, and at the proper time, He completed and replaced our imperfect offerings with the perfect sacrifice of His perfect son. His righteousness demands blood for our sins. Yet He loves us so much that rather than see us suffer and die, He gave up His son for us.
Jesus Christ lived out this selflessness in human form. Rather than saving Himself from the cross, which He easily could have done, He chose to put our eternal welfare above His own physical, earthly being. He chose to submit His own will and rights to that of His Father, to provide us an escape, to save us from our rightful punishment. We needed a perfect blood sacrifice. He chose to be that sacrifice. He chose to suffer torture and death because it was in our best interest.
This is the kind of love God calls us to live for others, the kind of love He seeks to instill in us.
Most of us will probably not be required to lay down our lives for those we love, though some-many-of us might be. But this sort of selfless love, this “laying down of life,” comes in many forms: giving up a much-desired purchase so that a child can go on a field trip; choosing to forgo a trip to a favorite destination because your husband wants to go someplace else; reprimanding a child when needed, though his tears break your heart. Even swallowing your pride and allowing someone the blessing of helping you when you need it.
Or giving up a much-loved classic car because your wife is more important, even when her words aren’t particularly loving.
~June 18, 2011
Felicia
Anything you want, you got it.
Anything you need, you got it.
Anything at all.
~ Roy Orbison
[Love] doth not seek its own things . . . ~ I Corinthians 13:5 (Young’s Literal Translation)
At the time George and I got married, he owned a 1958 AMC Rambler Custom. He’d had it since his college days. Her name was Minnie, after her previous owner. A large car by today’s standards, the four-door had an incredibly spacious interior, with front bench seat and ample legroom. No seatbelts. The back of the front seat was split, so that each side could be laid back to create a sleep space for camping. The car was a taupe/cream (or more specifically, Cinnamon Brown and Alamo Beige) two-tone with chrome trim and tail fins. When we’d take it out, we’d always draw impressed, interested, or admiring glances from others on the road. One of my very favorite pictures of George is one of him posing with the Rambler. He was very proud of that car.
We took it on drives here and there when we were dating, though I never had the chance to drive it myself. Shortly after we got married, a piston rod bent and had to be replaced. The car sat for years awaiting repair. I often asked George what the good was of having such a car when we couldn’t afford to have it repaired in a timely manner. Eventually, after a couple of years, he finally was able to get the rod fixed. After that, the car sat in our one-car garage. It was in need of other repairs-a new fuel line, among other things-and we simply weren’t getting much use out of it. I’d often suggest that he sell it to someone who could afford the repairs and enjoy the car. We could use the money, after all. I was, perhaps, not always gracious or tactful in making this suggestion, I’m sorry to say.
One day, George surprised me when he told me he’d found a buyer for the Rambler. He had approached a couple he knew through his parents. He thought these people might be interested in purchasing Minnie. They loved the Rambler, and George knew they’d repair it and take proper care of it and enjoy it more than we could. As we sat on the porch step and watched the Rambler drive away, I asked George why he had finally decided to sell.
He put his arm around me and told me that I was more important to him than the car was.
Whenever I think of “love is not self-seeking,” this is what comes to mind-my husband, parting with one of his most prized possessions (and investments) because I’m more important to him.
The Amplified Bible says it this way:
“Love (God's love in us) does not insist on its own rights or its own way, for it is not self-seeking.”
Simply put, love means placing the interests and welfare of the loved one before one’s own.
As I write this, George and I are applying to adopt a child. I wonder almost daily whether or not I have enough love-that kind of self-sacrificing love, the love that is not self-seeking-in me to be a good mother. I am, by human nature, selfish. I often wonder if I have the capacity to love the way a child needs to be loved. The way my friends need to be loved. The way my family needs to be loved. So often I feel like I fall short. I can’t do it on my own.
God, in both the person of God the Father and the person of God the Son, vividly demonstrated for us what it means to love self-sacrificially, to place the welfare of the beloved above His own rights. God the Father did what was best for us rather claim His right as Creator of the Universe to destroy us for our sin. Rather than demand our own blood, which He could easily do, He provided His people with a system of sacrifice, and at the proper time, He completed and replaced our imperfect offerings with the perfect sacrifice of His perfect son. His righteousness demands blood for our sins. Yet He loves us so much that rather than see us suffer and die, He gave up His son for us.
Jesus Christ lived out this selflessness in human form. Rather than saving Himself from the cross, which He easily could have done, He chose to put our eternal welfare above His own physical, earthly being. He chose to submit His own will and rights to that of His Father, to provide us an escape, to save us from our rightful punishment. We needed a perfect blood sacrifice. He chose to be that sacrifice. He chose to suffer torture and death because it was in our best interest.
This is the kind of love God calls us to live for others, the kind of love He seeks to instill in us.
Most of us will probably not be required to lay down our lives for those we love, though some-many-of us might be. But this sort of selfless love, this “laying down of life,” comes in many forms: giving up a much-desired purchase so that a child can go on a field trip; choosing to forgo a trip to a favorite destination because your husband wants to go someplace else; reprimanding a child when needed, though his tears break your heart. Even swallowing your pride and allowing someone the blessing of helping you when you need it.
Or giving up a much-loved classic car because your wife is more important, even when her words aren’t particularly loving.
~June 18, 2011
Felicia