Serving her is a privilege

Yesterday we were apart all day, and by the time we got to bed, it was late, and we would be getting up early. And I've got a whopper of a cold. So the prospect of kneeling by the bed doing whatever it is that that does, seemed kind of odd.

In the event, it didn't matter because she was tired and just wanted an embrace before we went to sleep, and so that's what she directed to have happen.

But that made it occur to me that kneeling by her bed to ask for permission to come to bed is a privilege that I have to earn by, in fact, serving her. And that serving her is, in some sense, a privilege as well, which I would be well advised not to throw away by ignoring it and not doing it.

Today's not looking much better service-wise, mainly because I'm sick. I guess that's real life, so I won't complain about it. But it's frustrating.