I need you to know this: I am philosophically opposed to making the bed.

It feels pointless. I’m going to mess it up again tonight. I’ve even sent my husband articles claiming it’s healthier to let the bed “air out.”

But here’s the thing.

My husband loves a neatly made bed. He honestly believes the world would be a better place if everyone pulled up the covers each morning. Decorative pillows? Don’t get him started.

So why do I sometimes make the bed, even when every fiber of my being resists?

Not because I’ve been convinced.
Not because he argued me into it.

I do it for one reason.

Because I love him.

Love Changes the “Why”

When my kids ask why we live differently than many of their friends – why we say no to things that are easier, why we give time or money when it costs us, why we forgive when it would feel better not to – our answer is framed in terms of relationship. 

We live this way because we love Jesus.

Not because we’re especially disciplined.
Not because we enjoy being countercultural.
Not because we’ve mastered self-control.

Love shifts the “why.”

Without relationship, rules don’t make sense. Why would anyone choose what’s harder, slower, or less rewarding if there isn’t someone they love at the center of it?

Evangelization and Bed-Making

This is where it gets uncomfortable.

St. John Paul II wrote in Catechesi Tradendae that, "the definitive aim of catechesis is to put people not only in touch but in communion, in intimacy, with Jesus Christ."

And yet, much of the time, we catechize people who do not yet know Jesus as if intimacy were already established.

We ask people to rearrange their lives for a love they haven’t experienced yet. We explain expectations before encounter. We describe obligations before there is a relationship.

In other words, we ask people to be intimate with someone they do not know.

That's not just a pastoral misstep.  It's the same tempting lie we breathe in all around us – that intimacy can exist wihtout relationship, that transformation ever comes without love.  

We reinforce that lie every time we lead with morality because it feels safer than vulnerability.  Every time explaining doctrine feels safer than sharing closeness with Jesus.  Every time we mistake information for communion. 

When love hasn’t landed yet, obedience feels like pressure.  Catechesis without encounter leaves people informed but unmoved.

But once someone has encountered Christ’s love, the “why” changes everything. The same actions might be hard, but they make sense and they're willing to try.

Love doesn't eliminates the effort or remove the cost. It just changes the meaning of it.

Questions to Sit With

• What’s the “bed” you resist – not because it’s wrong, but because you don’t see the point?
• Where have you leaned on rules because relationship felt riskier or harder to trust?
• Who are you asking for obedience from before love has had a chance to take root?

If obedience feels heavy, ask why.  
Maybe the resistance isn't rebellion.  
Maybe it's the honest response of someone being asked for intimacy before they have known Jesus' love.