September 13, 2017
One of the clearest lessons I’ve learned is that love grows where sacrifice is chosen.
This relationship between love and sacrifice became especially apparent to me during the time I was housebreaking my puppy. The process required vigilance and discipline. Every couple of hours, at a minimum, I had to take him outside—or else I was cleaning a mess off the tile floor. I adjusted my daily schedule to accommodate the training routine and gave up activities if I knew I would be gone too long for him to succeed.
Housebreaking was inconvenient, but so was neglect. He could learn, but only if I was present and consistent.
Nighttime made the process more demanding. It was winter in Rexburg, Idaho, with temperatures well below freezing, so I kept the dogs inside, corralled in the mud room. Sleep was interrupted frequently—sometimes by whining, sometimes by silence that startled me awake with worry. Exhaustion and frustration were constant companions.
Yet through this process, I became acutely aware of something unexpected: I loved my puppy more because of what I had sacrificed for him. My time, my comfort, my sleep—these investments bound my heart to him. In caring for him, he also filled a quiet space in my life that longed to nurture and protect.
As I reflected on this relationship between love and sacrifice, I began to recognize its broader significance—not only in the love of a parent for a child, but also in the spiritual pattern of Christ’s love for us.
The Savior’s sacrifice is often referenced as the ultimate act of love, and rightly so. But one detail of that sacrifice stood out to me in a new way. In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus prayed, “Not my will, but thine, be done.” His suffering was not only physical; it was a complete yielding of His will in obedience to the Father. Love, in its highest form, required submission and sacrifice.
Christ taught this principle repeatedly. “A man cannot serve two masters.” “If ye love me, keep my commandments.” Love is revealed through allegiance, through what we are willing to give up in favor of something higher.
This principle helps explain why sacrifice has always been central to spiritual practice. Anciently, God’s people offered physical sacrifices. Today, Christ asks for “a broken heart and a contrite spirit.” We offer this sacrifice through humility, obedience, and the surrender of pride and self-will. The same principle applies in our service to others. We cannot truly serve without sacrifice, and we rarely love deeply without it.
This truth also carries a caution.
We grow attached not only to what we sacrifice for intentionally, but also to what we sacrifice for subconsciously. If we do not choose our priorities deliberately, our time, energy, and devotion will still be spent—and our hearts will follow.
When we sacrifice long-term joy for short-term gratification, or integrity for approval, or spiritual health for convenience, those choices shape what we come to value most.
A familiar maxim captures this well: “Never give up what you want most for what you want at the moment.”
This understanding has become a personal framework for evaluating my choices. It acts as a quiet system of checks and balances—helping me weigh priorities, realign my actions with my values, and live with greater intention.
What are you sacrificing?
And is it what you want most?
Totally agree with all of this! I had very much the same insight with my own dogs. They do fill a void in our hearts and teach us so many lessons. I have a pretty strong testimony of the role of the dog (as funny as it might sound to call it that.) I honestly believe that dogs were given to us to be our friends and companions and that they “fulfill the measure of their creation” by having that role. There is all this scientific evidence that now proves what every dog person has already known-they are healthy for us! The specific social structure of the canine works amazingly well with human needs. The genetics of the dog allows for more diversity than pretty much any other species so anybody who truly wants a dog can find one that fits their lifestyle. And even just petting your dog will give you a burst of happy chemicals in your brain. Civilization as we know it would not be what it is without the horse and the dog. (Interestingly enough, the horse can have a similar role to the dog.) I will never live another day of my life without dogs. 🙂
Thank you, Kera, for your insight. Having dogs in my life is still a new experience for me, and has been such a blessing in so many unforseen ways. My dog is almost six years old, and I couldn’t imagine life without him.