Genesis 29:20

Jacob is working for his uncle Laban to marry Rachel, the woman he loves. Seven years of labor was an enormous bride price — roughly 84 months of daily work for one "yes." The stunning detail is that these years "seemed like only a few days" because of his love. This isn't romantic idealization but the strange math of love — how purpose and desire can transform drudgery into something meaningful. In context, Jacob will later be tricked into marrying Rachel's sister first, making this love even more costly.

God, You know the years I'm spending on things that feel endless. Help me see clearly what (and who) is worth my seven years. Teach me to work with love, not just duty. And when the work feels meaningless, remind me that You're always working toward redemption, even in the waiting. Amen.

Seven years. That's 2,555 mornings of waking up before dawn to work for someone else. Seven years of watching your calloused hands count down days that aren't yours. And yet Jacob says it felt like a weekend. Not because Laban was generous — the guy would later be exposed as a master manipulator. But because love changes how we experience time. You know this feeling, don't you? When you're saving for the house down payment and every overtime shift feels like an investment in your future family. When you're studying for the degree that'll let you provide for aging parents. When you're learning to be the parent you never had, one hard day at a time. Love doesn't make the work easier — it makes the work matter. It rewrites "have to" into "get to." The question isn't whether you're willing to work for what you love. The question is whether you're working for things that are worth seven years of your one wild life.