Today, I asked Jeff how he was feeling. Not too great. He'd stayed up all night cleaning the church, something he does when the facility is used on Saturdays. Pulling all-nighters like that really wears him down physically.
So his list of aches was long, poor guy. He had a headache behind his eyes, his throat was tight, his ears were ringing, his eyes were burning, he was completely exhausted, he felt dizzy, and his back was all knotted up, which always causes him excruciating pain.
But instead of my helping him in any way, just as he finished sharing I collapsed on the dining room floor, too weak to stand up. So ridiculous.
So not only did he have to fend completely for himself in dealing with his own pain, but he put all of his pain and discomfort aside to take care of me. He arranged a space for me to lay down in the living room so I wouldn't have to be alone, he lifted me up off the floor and supported me with his strong arms as he half-carried me to my resting spot, he brought me a meal and something to drink, he made me an extendo-straw so I wouldn't even have to lift my head off the pillow to sip water, and he bustled all around, his concern for me driving his own pain and discomfort from his mind.
The fact that he did all that is something good, but it's not the Something Good I'm pointing out. Today's Something Good about Jeff is that he did all that instantly, selflessly, automatically. Without question, without hesitation, without resentment. Totally loving, totally gentle, totally strong.
He is a man of honor.