I asked my wife last year what she wanted to do to celebrate our 30th wedding anniversary. I was not expecting the word that came out of her mouth immediately.

“Scotland,” she said.

“Scotland?” I gasped. “Like sheep Scotland? Guys in tartan kilts throwing telephone poles Scotland? Haggis and whiskey Scotland?”

“Yes, that’s the Scotland I mean,” she said.

I took a deep breath, my mind spinning. There were two competing values at war with one another in my brain. The first value, learned almost 30 years ago, is give the woman what she wants. Happy wife, happy life. Going along with this value is the recognition that not just any woman could put up with the likes of me for three decades. If you were to ask my wife how long she has been happily married to me, I know she would reply with an answer somewhat short of 30 years. How short would depend on the day you asked her. There ought to be something significant to celebrate the 30 years of perseverance on her part.

The second value is that I like a good deal. I don’t like to spend a lot of money at any one time. I like to rein it in, and generally that fiscal conservativeness has served us well. That was especially true as a young and dumb pastor right out of the gate with a small church, a small salary, and a couple of kids in tow.

Over-arching both of these values is the fact that I am a Christian. Is it right to spend that kind of money on ourselves? How much does it cost to go to Scotland? Airfare, accommodations, rental car, gas, food, ferry crossings, entry fees to castles and the like — it all adds up, and up and up.

So I told her, “I need a day to think about it.”

I wrestled with the morality of such a decision. Is a trip to Scotland selfish? After all, if we spent that money on a trip, we wouldn’t have it to give it away for charitable causes or even to set it back for something like retirement. Didn’t Jesus tell us to sell everything and give the proceeds to the poor, then come and follow Him?

As I was feeling guilty about the thought of such a trip, a story about Jesus came to my mind. It was of the woman who knelt at Jesus’ feet a week before He was crucified, and she poured out a whole bottle of very expensive perfume onto them. It was an extravagant act of sacrificial love, and Jesus saw it as such. But one of his disciples objected strenuously at such a waste. Why couldn’t she have sold the perfume and given the money to the poor? The gospel writer John gives commentary on this point: the objecting disciple was none other than Judas Iscariot, the one who was the thief among them helping himself to the common money bag, and later the betrayer of Jesus. Jesus’ response to the objection? “Leave her alone. It was intended that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial. You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me.” (12:7-8)

Was Jesus being callous to the plight of the poor? Not a chance. Jesus’ whole ministry centered on them especially. What I think Jesus meant was that there are opportunities that come your way only once, and when they come, recognize them for what they are. Don’t act in a miserly way, but pour it all out in love. Application? I’d rather be a Mary than a Judas. I’d rather seize the moment, pour out my love for my wife in an extravagant way, recognizing that such a pouring does not preclude giving sacrificially to people in need or to good causes. If God owns the cattle on a thousand hills, then He will provide for us, and we can be generous to others and still celebrate a special occasion.

I also had to abate my natural instinct to not spend a lot of money at one time. Did we have the money in hand to put towards such a trip? If the answer was no, that decided it. It would be the height of foolishness, in my mind, to put it all on a credit card and pay later with high interest rates. I looked carefully at our accounts and investments. I realized we could do the trip without going into debt and without compromising our saving strategies. I also thought about the fact that at funerals, whenever someone gets up to talk about their loved one, they always mention the special times they had together including trips like fishing in Canada, or a cruise to Hawaii, or camping as kids with mom and dad. No one ever says, “My dad made a bunch of money and saved it all.”

Still, Scotland is a lot of money for us, and I needed the feeling that in some way it was a deal. So I asked one of my lawyer friends in church a hypothetical question: “What does a divorce cost these days?” He answered with a wry smile, “More than half of all you own.”

Now don’t mistake me. I am not suggesting my wife would divorce me if I didn’t take her to Scotland. What I am saying is this: You have to invest in the people who are closest to you, in the relationships you enjoy with them. If you stop paying attention to them, if you stop investing in them, if you forget why you married them in the first place, all bets are off. Compared to losing the love I share with my wife, the price tag on a trip to Scotland is like the old blue light special.

So… bon voyage!

Derek Russell is pastor of the Hillsboro Global Methodist Church. He loves Jesus, family, dogs and football.