Emu Love

I’m a big fan of “The Five Love Languages” by Dr. Gary Chapman.  I have read through his book a few times and have benefitted from it in some way each time.  Something that I began thinking about this last time I read through Dr. Chapman’s book is how these languages can be used as a tool of selfishness.

My love language is giving and receiving gifts.  Receiving a gift from my wife (as well as giving a gift to my wife) expresses love to me.  I don’t need a new car, a new television or anything big, but when my wife buys me something like a Frappuccino from Starbucks or a pack of cigarettes from the bum on the corner that means a lot to me.  It tells me that she was thinking about me and went out of her way to show me that she cares for me.  But every so often I wonder if I restrict my spouses’ ability to express her love to me whether I realize it or not.  For example, say I want to build an Emu farm out behind our house.  Now she knows that I have a desire to build an Emu farm, but like any good, smart, loving wife would, there is just no way on God’s green earth she is going to allow me to do this.  So instead, she may bring me other gifts or express her love for me in other ways.  But no matter what she gives me or what she does for me, if it’s not an Emu, then I may be less likely to notice the expression of love behind her actions because I am focused on obtaining one thing: love in the form of an Emu. (That just doesn’t sound good, but you get my point).  The developing problem is that I am basically forcing her to literally and figuratively buy my love in order for me to accept the fact that she loves me.  And whether or not she does buy my love (in the form of an Emu in this case), I am greatly limiting her ability to do so.

After some time goes by and I still have not received my “Emu”, I may eventually be unable to tell the difference between my selfishness and her “lack of love” for me.  Because I want an Emu so bad I can’t see anything beyond my own blurred vision of what love is and am basically rejecting all the other forms of love that she is expressing to me.  I guess it is also possible to say the same thing about my relationship with Christ.

My wife and I were recently talking about how we sometimes fail to meet each other’s love quota.  Not that we purposely mean to, but life tends to happen, or selfishness rears its ugly head, or we have a disagreement, or………(fill in the blank), and we just don’t express our love for each other like we should.  I don’t know if the above is something I have ever done to my wife.  I hope and pray that I haven’t and for that matter never will, but I also realize I am human and that I can be self-seeking at times.  When we got married, part of my vows stated that our love will only be made perfect through Christ.  I have to admit, I am so glad that is true because I know I am incapable of loving Vicki (or my girls) the way she deserves to be loved.      

DBMA

Growing up I never thought I would get married and I was certain I would never have two little girls who would have me wrapped around their little fingers.  But now that I have that, I wouldn't trade any of it for the world.  Yet on almost a daily basis I don’t even think about how blessed I really am.  

When I was giving our girls a bath the other night Brie handed me her crayon (yes the same crayon that Ava ate), and asked me to write some letters on the inside of the bath tub.  First she asked me to write a “B” for Brianna, then an “M” for mommy, then “D” for daddy and “A” for Ava.  We ended up going through our ENTIRE family which took some time, but for whatever reason she wanted our four letters on one section of the bath tub while the rest of them were scattered throughout the rest of the tub.  After I wrote out all the letters I just sat there and stared at the four of ours, D B M A (at least until Brie  sent a small tidal wave of pee infused bath water in my direction), and I think for the first time it REALLY hit me that I have a family.  Yeah, I have obviously known that I have had a family for a while now, I’m not that oblivious.  But all too often I tend to plow through life without really conceptualizing the magnitude of what God has blessed me with.  I still am just amazed that he would even give me such an incredible and important honor as this.  Sometimes I wonder if he really does know me, because if he knows me the way I know me I don’t think I would trust me with such a huge responsibility.  But I know with his unconfined knowledge of who I am he knows me in ways that I can’t begin to imagine and trusts me more than I will ever trust myself.  Psalm 139: 1-6 explains it perfectly. 

Psalm 139: 1-6: O Lord, you have searched me and you know me.  You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar.  You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.  Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord.  You hem me in – behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me.  Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.

It is really nice to know that God knows me better than I know myself.  Because with how easy it is for me to become distracted by what this world has to offer it’s good to know that at least one of us knows where we are going.