My sister just finished reading "Breaking Dawn" (out of obligation more than curiosity, since her teenage daughter read it) and called me yesterday to discuss it. She said the theme of the book was sex and passion = love, which launched us into a discussion about true love and what it really is. And each of us was able to define it in one sentence.
Sentence 1: True love is your husband cleaning up the vomit when one of your kids pukes in the middle of the night.
Sentence 2: True love is when your husband willingly helps you go to the bathroom after you've had major surgery.
You might be laughing, but I honestly think these are two very accurate descriptions of what love is. It seems you always hear that love is the romance and the flowers, the candlelight dinners and kisses, and in the case of "Breaking Dawn", sex, sex, and more sex. And I fully agree that love can and should include these things. But if your husband is busting his buns going to work for the family, and all you do is complain about the fact that he never sends you flowers, then you are missing the point. Every time he mows the lawn or takes the trash out for you, he is telling you he loves you. Flowers or not.
Love is service and sacrifice. Honestly, nothing says I love you like changing a poopy diaper.