It’s the picture of my husband wiping sweat from the faces of football players. It’s the picture of my husband tending to minor injuries and those needing a word of encouragement. It’s even the picture of him cutting tape off wrapped ankles after the game when everyone else has left.
Seeing him care for me and our children with his words and actions is something that one would expect. It’s also something that I am very grateful for. But not everyone is willing to wipe sweat or offer hugs to hot and sweaty football players.
He cares for them as if they were his own children standing on the sidelines in the game of life. He celebrates the victories and shares the sadness of loss with them. In that moment, they are his priority. They are his mission field.
My husband is unlike any man I’ve ever known. His compassionate heart and selfless ways are more than enough proof of his love of Jesus. He can’t help but be this way because he has the true heart of a servant. He has learned from His Master to wipe tears and listen well. He seeks not a position of authority on those sidelines, but a place of grace.
I have no doubt when the final game is played and he stands before the throne of grace that he will hear, “Well done, my good and faithful servant”.