Snuggle Chair

Since I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash each other’s feet. I have given you an example to follow. Do as I have done to you.

As I stood in the furniture store, eyeballing the oversize chair-and-a-half, I was slightly dismayed by its too-light fabric and less-than-trendy style. The only thing going for it was the larger-than-normal cushion: plenty of room for me and a kid or two to fit with a blanket, books, and sometimes a dog. After years of little butts squeezing next to mine in my favorite, rather petite accent chair, I’d determined to find a bigger one to accommodate fast-growing children rather than give up snuggles.

Smiling at the salesperson, I said, “I’ll take it.”

When it was delivered and moved into the space previously occupied by my favorite chair, I officially introduced my family to our only piece of furniture with a formal name: Snuggle Chair.

Even in my quest for a slightly more oversize piece, I didn’t anticipate that Snuggle Chair would become an important tool for our family. With plenty of room for even Aaron and I to sit comfortably, it is more intimate than the couch, providing a cozy place for, well, snuggles and conversations—silly and hard, tearful and joy-filled. It’s given our family the perfect spot for physical proximity as we’ve wrestled through difficult family moments, as well as offering a lovely place to simply sit side by side while reading separately, together.

God equips us spiritually to love one another, but he also provides physical means and tools. I can’t help but think of how the Son of God used something as mundane as the washing of filthy feet to model servant leadership and sacrificial love. And while Snuggle Chair is nowhere near as profound, I’m grateful for its slightly unfashionable presence in my home.

The realization of its usefulness leads me to ponder what other tools I use to love others well, tools that I’ve perhaps overlooked because of their ordinary presence in my life. For example, lengthy car rides with my teenage children create a nonthreatening space for deeply personal conversations.

When we stop to contemplate which tools help us love others well, we can use those items with increased intentionality, adopt new habits, or make small changes to increase the effectiveness of our tools.

Julie

Today’s Act of Gratitude

What tools do you use to love others well? Consider how you might use them more effectively.