Loving is Learning
I’m a crier; moved to tears by, well, pretty much anything—Disney movies (Onward and Elemental gutted me!) music (Josiah Queen’s, most recently), and anytime one of my kids takes the stage for a program of any kind (because they are just SO big and talented and wonderful, okay?!). It really doesn’t take much to bring on the waterworks for me.
Still, though, I never thought a chicken wrap would make me cry.
Context is helpful here, so let me explain. January was a busy month for me. Actually, no, scratch that. It was INSANE, my friend. If you can imagine what it would feel like to be barely treading water in the middle of the ocean while somehow also being on fire while there is also a tornado roaring towards you, that is what my January felt like. I traveled 11 out of 20 working days while also managing an unexpected crisis situation with a Veteran I serve as a social worker at the VA, then struggled to complete all the necessary documentation while our office phone rang off the hook and requests from Veterans and the nursing homes they reside in poured in nonstop. Oh, and between all that insanity was New Year’s Eve, two birthday parties for my oldest kiddos, and multiple events at our church.
I was drowning, and, if I’m being completely honest, a little bitter. I felt like I was carrying the brunt of family and work responsibilities on shoulders I knew wouldn’t be able to carry all I’d placed on them for much longer.
My work-from-home days are always a welcome reprieve from the insanity that is my work, offering me an hour back into my day in saved commute time. It also allows me more time with my husband, who works from home full time. And it was on one of these joint work-from-home days, feeling like I was going to explode from the pressure of all I was juggling, that my husband brought me a chicken wrap that made me cry.
I was working myself to death trying to take care of everyone and all I wanted, I realized, was for someone to take care of me.
Acts of service is the default love language I dispense to the people in my life; I’ve always been a caretaker and nurturer. And it’s the kind of love I most appreciate receiving, too. When thinking about the times that I’ve felt the most unloved, it’s when I feel like I’m giving and giving and giving without receiving anything in return.
And that chicken wrap was a visceral reminder of this; clarifying why I felt so on edge with everyone, from my co-workers to my husband to my dog.
I just wanted the people in my life to take care of me like I was taking care of them.
After I finished that chicken wrap and dried my tears, I tiptoed into my husband’s home office, dropped a kiss on his cheek and told him “thank you for making me lunch. I love when you take care of me.” And it was evident by the smile that stretched across his face that, although he’d done this act of service for me, he’d received just as much, if not more, out of it than I had.
This is just one example of how I think utilizing the philosophy of the Five Love Languages can benefit a relationship. When I understand what makes me feel most loved, I can communicate this to the people in my life to help them love me better, and vice versa. Knowing my husband beams under words of affirmation and physical touch gives me practical tools to love him well.
Now, I want to stop right here and give a disclaimer. As with any schools of thought, there are likely to be aspects of it that you agree with and aspects that you don’t. This is the case for me and the Five Love Languages. I agree that we feel more loved by certain actions (which are, according to Gary Chapman: words of affirmation, quality time, physical touch, acts of service, and receiving gifts) but I don’t believe that, if we don’t receive our preferred type of love, we won’t develop into the person we were created to be. If that was the case, that would be a heck of a lot of pressure, wouldn’t it? It would certainly keep me up all night every night if I knew that my failure to love my husband and kids in their preferred love languages would damage them beyond repair, and, if I’m being honest, I probably wouldn’t even want to try to love them well at all.
So, now that we have that cleared up, I want you to stop and do a little self-reflection. Travel back in time to your childhood and conjure up as many memories as you can of times you felt loved. Really loved. What was happening? Was your dad clapping you on the shoulder and telling you how proud he was of the hours and hours you put into your school project, hours that resulted in that coveted 100%? Were you sitting next to him on a dock, fishing poles and legs dangling in the water? Was your head cradled in your mom’s lap while she ran her fingers through your hair? Was your mom placing your favorite, from-scratch chocolate cake in front of you on your birthday, a cake she devoted her entire day to making? Was it helping your parents unload the groceries and realizing that, as they made their way up and down the grocery store aisles, they selected little extras here and there simply because they knew you enjoy them?
There were things that your parents did that made your heart sing with happiness and your heart warm with the knowledge that these people knew you, and there were other things that, although thoughtful and done with great love, simply didn’t illicit the same type of feelings that receiving your preferred love language did. Maybe your heart didn’t sing when your mom ran her thumb across your hand as she held in through the grocery store parking lot, not like it would have if she’d said yes to that piece of candy you’d asked for at checkout, but I bet it still made you feel safe. Or, while you might have appreciated that your mom cleaned your room for you while you were away at a sleepaway camp, it didn’t make you feel quite as special as the time you came home from that same sleepaway camp to find the brand-new comforter you’d been eyeing at the store spread across your bed. Did your mom mean to slight you by showing you physical affection and an act of service when your love language is receiving gifts? Absolutely not! It’s likely that her preferred love languages are physical touch and acts of service; they are the most natural for her to give to you because it’s what her heart most wants.
We should absolutely learn to be grateful for and show appreciation for all efforts given to love us. But if we can learn to accept love in the preferred way it is given, can’t we learn to give love in the preferred way it is received?
I believe we can and that there are many healthy reasons to study the preferred love languages of the people around us. And doing so is really not that difficult—all you have to do is ask! (Even easier? Take the official quiz here: https://5lovelanguages.com/quizzes/love-language) Once you know what the other person’s top two love languages are, take it a step further by figuring out the unique ways to speak those languages, then be open to feedback as time goes on, because there will be times you speak it better and times when you’ll need to be reminded that, “no, this is how you say it!” Does our failure to speak to each other in our preferred love languages mean our relationship is at risk of crumbling? No, absolutely not! But just as our hearts sang as children when our parents took the time to learn the music of our hearts, the same is true in our romantic relationships. When my husband does acts of service for me, it melts my heart. And when my heart is softened towards him, it makes me want to love him well too. We give and receive in a beautiful melody that sings out into our home, warming not only our hearts, but the hearts of those around us, too.
As the discounted chocolate disappears from the store shelves and the roses on your kitchen table begin to wilt, the rhythm of the calendar year marching forward to the next holiday season, I hope these words stick with you. I hope you take some time for self-reflection, determining what made your heart sing as a child and then taking some time to teach that melody to whoever God has placed in your life to love you. And I hope you can do the same for that person, encouraging them to do the same self-reflection and remaining open to their musical instruction.
I hope you make beautiful music together that reflects the most perfect love of all—the sacrificial death of Christ on the cross.
Happy loving, my friend!
