I’m Done Eating Bubbles (A Post About Love)

photo by richard.heeks

God knows my love language, He knows I need to actually feel the pressure of himself all throughout me. The settling of his weight so light and thick- a feeling that I can only feel and not describe.  I am not really a person of words, although they do speak to me, I am a person of feeling. My love language is touch.

I married a man who's love language is not touch, his native love language is words of affirmation. Although we both try to be literate, or even conversationally fluent in each other's love languages we just don't get how. I long to be filled up by him knowing to hold my hand when we are walking, or put his arm around me- but when he tries it is awkward and feels fake or stilted, and I push away, because the awkward touch just leaves me wanting for the way it could feel, but doesn't. I do the same. He is very sweet about it, but it hurts him just as bad. He longs for words- words of affirmation. When he does something (anything) he wants immediate praise, I feel that I am giving him lip service when I say: "great job!", "Thank you for..." and other cliche phrases that are written on kindergarten stickers to be doled out by smiling teachers. I feel foolish and incompetent and every-single-time I feel inadequate to give him what it is that fills him up most, and I am.

I have never heard of a couple that is able to satisfy the other just perfectly. Is that surprising? I hope not.  As much as we can lean into each other and learn to better speak to each other- still there is one, and only One who always gets it right. God. Every time I feel sad about The Husband's deficiency (or my need) it is because I am not feeling it enough from God. If I would let myself be met by Him who can do it so perfectly that would also free up The Husband to do the best he can and it would just be the blessing on top of blessing to bring me to overflowing. When I depend first on man, and then fill up the remainder with God it will always feel like eating bubbles. But when the soul is satisfied by the stout satisfaction that is Christ, The Husband's well meaning love isn't empty bubbles anymore it s a sweeter blessing than my words could express.

Just as I say this and read it back to myself I still wish it could be different. I wish I could be whole without God. My sin nature really fights dependency to an extreme level, even dependency on someone who won't let me down. In my human state I would rather feel some holes than trust anyone. Running to God does not come naturally to me, I would rather lean on myself while pretending to lean on The Husband and be annoyed when he falls short while patting myself on the back with feelings of false humility thinking of how really I am a martyr (ha!. I would rather not have to invest the time in God that it takes for Him to burp out the air bubbles of imperfection that others have left inside me. I then realize just how selfish it is for me to be this way. And how if I keep it up The Husband is doomed to never be good enough and always fail.

Bring it on God!!

I hear it coming. Pat, pat, pat...."BuRRRRRRP!"

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