What do armpits and love have in common?

“[Love] bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

A total romancer – my husband stood there, massaging my armpit! Knots the size of baseballs had formed in precarious locations due to a blocked breast milk duct caused by an infection (mastitis) that had spread to my lymph nodes.

This job isn’t for weaklings.

My whole body shook with chills, and 104◦F of heat blasted off my body, all while one arm was propped over my head and another holding our nursing baby. Watching our newborn wiggle, squirm, and coo in my lap gave me a superpower I had never known before, and the armpit massage was the rocket fuel I needed to drive forward.

“[Love] bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

Another day, another year, another armpit massage. I cried out in the blazing hot shower, praying for relief, while Ron stood to the side, massaging that pesky knot and weeping. Same infection, same temperature, same chills, same lumps, but, this time, our son died at birth. How could my body betray me like this? It was in denial and therefore continued producing milk and harboring an infection that only new mothers get. But there were no wiggles, no squirms, no coos, and certainly no superpower; only pain, physical and emotional, beyond understanding.

This job isn’t for weaklings.

Love reminds you that you don’t have to be a superhero to be top of its list; love prays both silently and out loud over you knowing it can’t fix your wound but knows the God who can; love sheds tears, and, best of all, love gives armpit massages.

Love’s job is not for weaklings.

“[Love] bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”