Throughout the Christian life we hear a lot of talk about what we “should” do. We should be faithful to our spouse. We should devote time to prayer and reading God’s Word. We should serve others, be devoted fathers and mothers, practice spiritual disciplines, share the good news with others, and be committed to discipleship groups.

While everything just listed is good, one thing has never sat right with me regarding these admonitions: the sense of duty and lack of genuine love and desire to do these things. And I think what is often missing in our hearts that keeps us from having genuine love rather than a mere sense of duty to do good is a lack of both sense of wonder and sense of gratitude for what God has given us.

Take the first example regarding marital faithfulness. For the women reading this, I’m sure we can all relate that we hope our husbands are committed to us not merely out of duty but because they truly love us and genuinely desire to be faithful to us. Of course I’ve often heard how feelings come and go so spouses need to have a determined and committed sense of loyalty regardless of how they are feeling. And sure that’s true. But is that ideal? Is that the best option? Or is it much more beautiful to maintain a true genuine affection for your spouse so that it is not a mere obligation to be faithful to them, but it is actually a delight to do so? But how then do we do so? It is, I believe, by not losing sight of the wonder of the gift of marriage—that God created marriage at all; that we’ve been given a spouse at all; that we’ve been given a person to love and support and be best friends with for a lifetime. There is extraordinary wonder in that, that sadly few have eyes to see. G.K. Chesterton, one of my favorite philosophical authors who had a beautiful ability to maintain a sense of wonder in living, observes the beauty of monogamy when he writes, “Keeping to one woman is a small price for so much as seeing one woman. To complain that I could only be married once was like complaining that I had only been born once.” Rather than becoming bored with a gift we’ve been given—in this example, a spouse—Chesterton saw the wonder of being given one woman for himself at all.

Although it is unfortunately observed in human life that familiarity breeds contempt, it doesn’t have to be this way. Humans become bored with the familiar because they have lost their sense of wonder of the gift that is before them. But if we could, like children, not lose our “eternal appetite of infancy,” as Chesterton puts it, that capacitates us for seeing everything with wonder, how much more beautiful life would be? How much more gratitude would we have in our hearts? And how much easier would it be to naturally pour out love from an overflow of the heart, rather than with an obligatory sigh?

So too goes with our love in caring for our children. Our children do not wish for their mother to begrudgingly give them a bath out of duty, or serve them food or get them dressed or spend time with them out of mere obligation. Children are smart and it doesn’t take much to notice that their parent is unhappily opening a bedtime story to read to them with irritation in their eyes rather than with delight, and it hurts their hearts. But how sweet when a child senses love in the eyes of his mother or father. His soul wells up with joy, and this child will grow with confidence and love to pour out to others as well.

To bring our mind back to delighting in our children, I believe—as with marriage—that gaining a fresh sense of gratitude for them as gifts of God is the most effective way to obtain this. Seeing the wonder of being given little lives to love and raise, and the reality that these lives are not promised to be here tomorrow, cannot but instill a sense of gratitude for them and a genuine rejoicing in what are often considered laborious duties in caring for them. I have witnessed several tragic instances in which children were taken to be with the Lord at young ages, and how the mothers would do anything to go back and love them better, or have them longer—difficult moments and all. I have known sweet young mothers, with 3, 4, and 5 children, who the Lord took, and the children were left without her. I think if any one of us parents were diagnosed with an incurable illness as those mothers were, we would do anything to go back to the repetitive daily duties of raising children of which are often complained about, and we would look at these duties as blessings and privileges in which we delight. We can do that now, rather than waiting for a tragedy to wake us up to what we’ve been blessed with.

What a gift each day is. What a tragedy to overlook the extraordinary blessings God gives in our children, our marriages, our health, our homes. Ingratitude, I believe, is what often leads to sin. If we are ignoring the beauty and blessings that God has adorned our lives with, it is only then that we begin to look elsewhere for satisfaction and fulfillment for our souls. Which, tragically and as we all know- inevitably only leads to the destruction of our souls and often destruction of all the good things God had filled our lives with. (*I think this is demonstrated greatly in the effect that ingratitude in women has had on society, in that rebellion against the beautiful roles God has given to women has led to the destruction and corruption of a well-ordered, healthy society containing personal and corporal fulfillment and flourishing. But I have written at length on this topic elsewhere, so for now I will digress.)

The paradox of maintaining gratitude through a sense of wonder of our children—that it is a wonderful thing to raise children—is that it is through our children that we remember what it is to live with a sense of wonder. Chesterton often meditates on the beauty of a child’s ability to perceive everything with new eyes that have not grown weary: “What was wonderful about childhood is that anything in it was a wonder… It was a miraculous world.” A child does not grow bored at the repetition of the same game or seeing the same flower everyday. Rather, children “exult in monotony” because “mere life is interesting enough” for them. To see things with wonder is to see things as they truly are, because everything is truly wonderful! We have just lost our ability to see that. We have lost the realization of the divine origin of objects and people and the remarkable design behind them, and it has caused us to grow dull in our thinking, rather than—as children—living with a daily sense of surprise and excitement for all that is around us. “Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, ‘Do it again’; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, ‘Do it again’ to the sun; and every evening, ‘Do it again’ to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we” (Chesterton, Orthodoxy). To maintain this childlike sense of wonder, to receive everything as a gift, to not become proud and begin to assume we deserve something different or something better… how sweeter life would be, and how much more love we would have in our hearts to pour into our spouses and children as our hearts overflow with gratitude to the One who gave us life.

And not only to our spouses and children, but this same concept is also applied to loving God and others. I have never been fond of the term “spiritual disciplines,” as it makes them sound laborious and not delightful. The use of this term, I believe, goes back to the reality that we have lost our sense of wonder of how remarkable it is that we get to do these things… that we get to pray to the God of the universe—the One who created us and loves us and redeemed us to Himself. If we really understood how extraordinary that is—that the Lord of all not only allows us to come to Him in prayer, but actually delights in us praying to Him—I think we would be on our knees in astonishment and joyful delight much more often. We wouldn’t wake up and start our day without falling to our knees in gratitude and amazement that God has given us another day—another day that we get to seek Him and know Him more and come to Him with petitions for ourselves and for others. What a privilege that is, truly. I think if we really grasped the power of prayer as well—that which I think Christians often undermine or don’t really believe in—then we would be praying much more often. I cannot articulate enough how many times I have seen God answer prayers the very same day that I was earnestly praying about something… so obviously so that when the prayer was answered I would nearly say out loud “You can’t make this stuff up!” It’s so beautiful how intimately God is involved in the lives of His children. Yet many Christians, though stating they are Christian, live more like theists—acknowledging that God exists and created us, yet isn’t much involved in our everyday life. Yet how intricately involved He is! How sad that we forfeit seeing His work in our lives, and forfeit experiencing the blessings He has for us, because we have lost our faith in the power of prayer and our wonder and amazement that we even get to pray to such a holy God at all.

The same goes for the gift of reading Scripture. We get to read the very thoughts of God. The story of salvation history that He has written… His heart for us and the beauty of Christ and how our lives are woven into this Script… the gospel itself which is too good to be true yet is true… All of this is such a privilege to behold, and which most throughout history did not have the privilege of reading whenever they wanted (and history shows the detriment that had on their lives) as we do. How curious it is that Christians often look at reading their bibles as a discipline that they should do. What could be more delightful than this? What is more extraordinary than reading the very words breathed out from God? It is the most marvelous thing, no wonder the psalmists couldn’t help but exclaim, “Oh how I love Your Law! It is my meditation all the day!” (119:97); “How sweet are Your Words to my taste—sweeter than honey to my mouth” (119:103); “Your Law is better to me than thousands of gold and silver pieces!” (119:72); “Your steadfast love is better than life” (63:3); “You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound” (4:7); “Great peace have they who love Your love, and nothing can make them stumble” (119:165). What genuine delight the psalmists had in God’s Word! To really view Scripture as a great treasure—because it reveals to us Christ who is the greatest treasure of all—would stir us to long for it, hunger for it, and delight in it, rather than view it as a mere beneficial discipline.

Jesus tells us He is our Living Water. What does water do but refresh and nourish and purify our bodies? Cleanse and replenish and quench our thirst? He says He is the Bread of Life. What does bread do but fill and satisfy? It is to our detriment to forsake time with the Living Word, which will only nourish us, purify us, fulfill and satisfy us, and beautify our souls beyond what we could imagine. If we truly believed this, we would be running to the Scriptures! When I think about the people in history who are the most beautiful and admirable to me, I notice that a quality they all have in common is that they delighted to be in God’s Word and in prayer. Martin Luther, who God used to purify the church in extraordinary ways, is known for saying “I have so much to do today that I will spend the first three hours in prayer.” No wonder God used him as a key component for the reformation of the church. He is often quoted for his love for not only prayer but for Scripture (translating the entire Bible from its original languages into German for commoners to read). And I could go on and on with my list of beloved saints of old who cherished the Scriptures (Bernard of Clairvoix, John Chrysostom, Augustine of Hippo) and how evidently it showed in their lives. Such devotion to Scripture and prayer clearly produces the most beautiful souls. Why then do we look at such sanctifying privileges as duties rather than delights? It is because, once again, that our minds have grown dull and we have lost sight of the significance of what is before us. “Chesterton witnessed firsthand that familiarity with the Christian story bred apathy and blindness to the most paradoxical story that answered every deep question and should leave everyone stammering at its cosmic significance… To say the story is meaningful is an extreme understatement” (Brady Stiller, Your Life Is A Story). Although these statements are actually observations of secular culture rather than of the church, how truly they can be applied to Christians as well. Our apathy to the miracle of Christ, to creation and the Fall and the story of redemption, to the reality of eternal life awaiting us, keeps us from running to the Scriptures to be amazed once more by what God has revealed to us.

Lastly, this sense of duty is often applied in the concept of making disciples (hence discipleship “programs”), when genuine love is often lacking. Don’t get me wrong, I think there can be good motives in starting a discipleship program. But a “program” often implies duty, rather than genuine affection and love. Maybe it’s just me, but in the discipleship programs I’ve been a part of, I’ve gotten the impression that the people there were there out of a sense of I should be here, I should be wanting to listen and love these other Christians… which, of course, we should! But how much more genuine when a man or woman approaches you as a friend out of sheer love of their heart, sincerely wanting to get to know you and encourage you in the faith? I think I would open up much more to this person who is displaying true love in their heart for me than I would to a group of people who is showing up to a program out of dutiful discipline. (*Not to say all people show up to these groups begrudgingly. There are surely people in these groups who are genuine and sincere in their love, I have no doubt). Point being in all of this, I don’t think the church needs more “programs”. I think Christians need more genuine love in their hearts for others, in which true friendship can be built. For it is in love that the heart overflows with sincere care for others—desiring their well-being and growth in their faith, wanting them to flourish in their marriages and relationships and Christian walk, and willingly and happily praying for and with them as opportunity arises.
Perhaps one is reading this and thinking Yes, this would be nice, but Christians aren’t naturally this way—we are selfish sinners, remember? And hence we must have discipleship programs to get people together or else such relationships just won’t form. And perhaps this is true. But I believe this once again goes back to the sad reality that we have lost our sense of wonder that we get to have these types of relationships. I think if our eyes were opened to see the beauty of getting to pray with our brothers and sisters in Christ, the beauty of meeting and encouraging each other in the Word, listening to each other’s worries and struggles and temptations, and fighting the spiritual battle with them, then it would be more natural for us to do this. It would be a delight rather than a duty. We would wake up and look forward to spending time with a brother or sister in Christ, being encouraged or encouraging them in the faith, and viewing such a relationship as a gift from the Lord.
I know I can personally tell the difference between sincerity and obligation when interacting with others, and I don’t need to point out which is preferred. Just as God had said, “I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice” (Hosea 6:6), so too I think all of us desire genuine love from others rather than dutiful sacrifice of their time or efforts. This is not to say that we should live based solely off of our feelings—far from it! God is worthy of our obedience regardless of how we feel, and we are to obey His commands out of reverence for who He is if nothing else. However, as He works love in our hearts, we see that even in His statement “If you love Me, you will keep My commandments” (John 14:15), He is not saying this as a command in itself, as in “Obey Me to show that you love Me”; rather, He is saying that we will naturally obey Him when we have true love in our hearts for Him. That is, if we love Him, of course we will obey Him, because that’s what we delight in—honoring the One we love.

Is this not a main component of the good news of our Christian faith? That we do not (read: cannot) earn our salvation by dutiful obedience, yet once we have been freely given the gift of salvation by faith, we are so moved by gratitude that we want to obey God and do good works for the kingdom, because we have been given new hearts that are filled with God’s love. This is a miracle in itself that we should never lose our amazement over! God has, very actually, removed our hearts of stone and given us hearts of flesh. Yet once again, we have that tendency to lose our sense of wonder over wonderful things—the most wonderful—and we look elsewhere for something to thrill us rather than the only things that truly can.

Yet here I have gone on a tangent. I have hoped to convey that in all our endeavors—whether in devotion to a spouse, to children, to Scripture reading and prayer, befriending others, and anything else—our hearts should be motivated by love, not duty. We find in Scripture itself that “If I speak in the tongues of angels but have not love, I am but a noisy gong and clanging cymbal” (1 Cor. 13:1).

How I would like to expand further with more examples: With the sweetness of going to church and all that awaits us there—the efficacious power of the preached Word and the partaking of the Lord’s Supper to sanctify us and encourage us and equip our souls for living unto the Lord in this world; How beautiful it is to gather with the saints and sharpen each other and be fed by God’s Word, in a dialogue with the Lord Himself as He speaks and we respond. This is undoubtedly miraculous when we really think about it. Yet how often is church looked upon as a duty that we should do instead of our other preferred activities, rather than as a delight that we truly look forward to? How our eyes have grown dull to the wonders that take place there—to how very truly God’s Spirit works there. And I haven’t even touched on the remarkable privilege we have in sharing the gospel—the most valuable, life-changing news we possess—with others. But now my babies are starting to wake, so I must end this at last.

May we never lose our joy in the romantic story we get to engage in with our spouse.

May we never lose our delight in the wonderful privilege of taking care of children.

May we never lose our gratitude and wonder for being saved, forgiven, and restored back to God.

May we say with the psalmist as we’re given the opportunity to read God’s Word, “Your testimonies are the joy of my heart and my heritage forever” (119:111).

May we say with the psalmist on Sunday mornings, “Better is one day in Your courts than a thousand elsewhere; I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of the Lord than sweep in the tents of the wicked” (84:10)… “So I have looked upon You in the sanctuary to behold Your power and glory; Because Your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise You!” (63:2-3).

And may we, along with Chesterton, look with childlike wonder upon each enchanted sunrise as God says anew every morning: “Do it again.”