From the time my kids were babies, I wanted our family to live in a way that was massively distinct from the secular world, a way that was marked by faith and deep, abiding joy. In my holiest fantasies, my family culture was so steeped in devotion you’d be able to smell the chrism on us the second we walked out the door.

In time, I realized this distinction meant less self-service and more love for the other. It sounded a lot like discomfort and inconvenience, but I was hopeful any humble effort toward living and loving like Christ would yield joy, and I was game for the interior stretching it would require.

“What can I do for you today?” I ask my husband this question most mornings. I didn’t initially relish this self-imposed routine. With my own long list of to-dos and obligations, inviting an additional task felt like welcoming upheaval to my vital plans. Still, I’ve made it my custom to ask, and while I await his answer, I mentally commit to prioritizing whatever it is that he says. Then I make it happen. Andrew’s responses have ranged from “Pray for me” to “Could you get the alignment fixed?”

From years of this ritual, I’ve learned that prioritizing my husband’s needs 1) is necessary to prevent selfishness; 2) conveys to Andrew that he is loved and important; and 3) is my mission as Andrew’s spouse. To be a spouse is to be a “helpmate” (Gen. 2:18), which is what I vowed to be.

It’s here that I’ll say Andrew doesn’t reciprocate my question. That doesn’t mean he fails to help or support me; in our marriage he is the picture of generosity. I mean only that methods of sacrificial love vary from soul to soul, and this is the one I choose.

Interestingly, this practice is the one that gets the most backlash when I suggest it to spouses. The objections fly like, “He’s a grown man, he can take care of himself” or “If I help, she’ll think I’m butting in…” But I know when Andrew and I welcome each other’s needs, our hearts change. We grow in sacrificial love and gratitude for each other, and frankly, it’s a relief to have the kind of help that lightens the burdens of life.

The conversation between us happens minutes before we part for the day and often in earshot of the kids. He and I taking care of each other becomes part of the day’s schedule, so they’ve caught on. I’ve noticed our kids asking, “I’m making hot dogs, do you want one?” and offering, “Mom said I could go first, but you could if you want.” We all know kids are inclined to make a mad grab for going first or getting the biggest cookie, so seeing these glimmers of selflessness in my children encourages me to keep on.

It’s not just us. When my friend, Erin, and her husband hosted our family for dinner one night, she called her little ones to the kitchen to help with dessert. “It’s almost time for pie!” she said, encouraging their excitement. “Let’s give Mr. and Mrs. Sciba the best pieces. Which ones do you think look the yummiest?” Erin took their natural eye for picking the most delectable dessert and guided it toward virtue. Her children beamed with pride as they eagerly served us, even saying, “This is the super best piece!” I was struck by the selflessness Erin was cultivating in her children with such a simple gesture and the consequential joy her kids had from it.

Give it a go yourself. Make more space in your day for your spouse’s needs. Sacrifice getting the best of something to bring delight to another soul. Ordinary, secular life encourages us to prioritize ourselves, yet my experiences emphasize that joy of heavenly magnitude comes from living for someone else.

Katie Sciba is a national speaker and Catholic Press Award- winning columnist. Katie has been married for 15 years and is blessed with six children.

This article appeared in the March 2025 edition of The Catholic Telegraph Magazine. For your complimentary subscription, click here.