putting life into perspective

Scott had nose surgery on Monday, March 29th. In medical terms, he had a deviated septum. They had to break his nose and basically reconstruct it. It was crooked, which meant his bone was blocking his whole left sinus in order for drainage to occur. He hasn't been able to breathe out of his left nostril for years. He claims the only time he has ever had a bloody nose was when Jered (his brother) drove over him with a go-kart when he was younger. From that day on, I guess Scott has not been able to properly breathe and enjoy using both nostrils. Poor guy. I went to his house Monday night after work and took care of him all day Tuesday. I drove back every night after work just to be with him. I hated seeing him in pain. He had gauze taped to the bottom of his nose to catch the drainage (nasty). They packed his nose with gobs of gauze and tubes so it could drain, but he got that removed on Wednesday. It was sad to see him not himself. I tried so hard to take good care of him, but I don't feel like I really knew what to do but shower him with kind words. I constantly told him, "You are still the most handsome man in the world," and "You will be able to breathe out of both nostrils before you know it," and "Good thing this is only 2 weeks out of your whole life!" I hope those words were encouraging enough. There were times when I found myself having extremely selfish thoughts. I couldn't wait for him to be able to play again. I couldn't wait to see his big, beautiful smile that is so contagious. I couldn't wait until we could laugh again and be silly again together. We sat in his parent's house, in their basement, with the lights off and the curtains closed. Depressing. I kind of looked at this whole thing as a test to see if I would be a great wife no matter what happened to my husband someday, even if something awful that would cause me to have to take care of him the rest of our lives. I realized that there is no one else I would rather take care of no matter the length of time. I also realized I can be extremely selfish. I mean, poor Scotty was the one that had the surgery and was in horrible pain for days. I would sleep on the same couch I slept on every night last week for the rest of my life if my future husband needed me to care for him. I think about this minor detail that occurred in our lives compared to what Christ endured for us on the cross and, once again, it puts everything back into perspective. He didn't have to die on the cross, but he knew there was NO other way for our sins to be forgiven. I didn't have to take care of Scott, but I would be the biggest jerk if I didn't. What an awful comparison to what Christ did, but I guess that's my point. Thank you Jesus for the cross. I'm glad I have that as a reminder of how to love, even if it means to care for someone when they can't take care of me back. Selflessness.