My love language used to be gifts. And oddly enough, I could never receive enough gifts to feel the love. I think because receiving gifts was proof of love to me, I would always notice when I didn't get them. The result being that I would feel unloved. In my adult life, I would be part of groups where we would do "Secret Santa," and in college, we would choose someone's name and for the quarter, give them a note or small gift weekly, just to let them know we cared. I would usually come back from these events, broken-hearted. Why? because my pen pal/secret santa would have forgotten my gift or forgotten the event all together. It was so sad for me, because I would spend a lot of time trying to make my person feel special and loved. I would be so excited for the day when we would reveal whose secret Santa we were and receive our final gifts. I'm sure the person, who I felt at the time just didn't care about me, had no idea how meaningful it really was to me. I bet their love language was not gifts.
Over the years, I decided that having "gifts" as my love language caused me more sorrow than joy. Gifts are a hard one, because, people forget, they don't always have money and sometimes you can get the wrong idea from a cheap or expensive gift, when they don't mean what they appear to mean.
I know that physical touch isn't my love language. I know I need physical touch, but I'm not what some may call a "Snuggle Bug," type of person, except with my husband and kids, and they could probably use a little more snuggling from me too.(I'm working on that) There are a few other love languages, but I think the two that are most meaningful to me in this season of my life are; Words of Encouragement and Acts of Service.
I don't want to be praised, but I like to know you see me struggling and care. I like to know you like that poem I wrote, or that subject I blogged about. When people who know me, or just meet me say nice words to me, it is the best gift. Words can give you wings, when you don't have legs. A kind word is like warmth to the soul and butter on some yummy bread. Words really do lift us up and in many ways spur us on to good deeds. It doesn't even have to always be some joyful word of happiness or some acknowledgment of something great. I accept words of wisdom, correction ( with the right spirit) and words that tell me who I am and pull me out of the muck, when I am believing lies about myself or others. I guess it's really the heart behind the words that is the true gift. When someone takes time to share with you a thought about you, good, constructive, or happy they are taking time to care for you, see you, hear you, and that speaks rivers of love to my soul.
The second one for me is, Acts of Service. I am a get it done type of woman (most of the times, some time, well I want to be LOL). Anyways, I like to finish things and I like things organized, however, sometimes, I stay too busy and lose sight of what's really important. There are other times however, when I just have a lot that needs to get done, and I feel like I am the only one who can do it. I often feel that way because, I do not like to ask for help. I don't like to obligate people. I'm afraid that if I ask for help, I will have to reciprocate and then what if I can't reciprocate when they need my help. I try to avoid those situations. I also hope that my, " need for help" will just eventually go away if I ignore it long enough. Well, it usually doesn't and I end up putting in way too much time, doing the job of three people or quitting something that I started because I couldn't finish it on my own. God is teaching me a lot this quarter about letting go of that pride and letting people help me. As hard as it was to receive it has truly been a blessing.
I need help, but I like it when I don't have to ask. Well, don't we wish people could just read our minds and figure out our need without having to spell it out? Not realistic. So, Acts of Service, simple ones mean a lot to me. It's not even what's being done, it's the fact that someone is taking a load off my shoulders. It means they know me and they know if they step in, I can step down. They know that I would love to sit and read a book, but I won't as long as the dishes are in the sink, or the room is a mess, or there are a million other reasons.
I guess my underlining desire is to be known and loved, some proof of that is responding to me in a way that I can understand and receive. It's one thing to love someone and another to love them in a way they can recognize. When someone knows you, they see your struggles, and weaknesses and they help, speak, sit with, correct, and encourage in various ways at various times. They assist when you are weak and see through the mask when you are hiding. They get you and you let them in, and then they love you, and you are loved. You know it, and it feels great, and you in turn love back.... and the gift goes on.
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