My Love Language

Psalm 139 is well known scripture for many mommies. Verses 14-17 resonate with us-

For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.

My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,

your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be.

How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!

But it is Psalm 139:1 that takes my breath away, "O Lord, You have searched me and know me."

To me being known is being seen. Being seen is being loved.

That is my Love Language.

It is how I am best loved. It is how I love best.

The more I know Jesus, the more I believe this is His Love Language.

This is what I like most about Jesus.

Jesus is intentional about knowing people. He sees us. Doesn't judge at first glance, but gets to the heart of us, to our story, to all the stories that have come before ours. Stories good, bad, of defeat, and victory which were written into our stories, and He knows us. Knows us better than we know ourselves. Gets us. See's us. And ENTIRELY Loves us!

I want to know, see, and love like Jesus.

For too many years I have played loving because it was the "Christian" thing to do. But in too many circumstances I never really loved. I was just meeting my Christian requirements. I don't think that is entirely bad, sometimes we must "fake it till we make it." Obedience is the first step. But I've outgrown just being obedient. I want to love, from my inmost being I want to love.

I want to love:

My neighbor. Who is broken. She resides in a prison not made of visible bars, but of drugs, alcohol, and defeat.

My neighbor's children.

A friend, who has destroyed her life, and is living in lies.

A relative whose choices grieve me.

and too many more...

I want to love them.


This is a gift I can give daily.
What gift can you give daily?

A few of my favorite things- part 3, "You had me at the box."

It started with a box.

Michael's grandmother, Gram, made a tradition of giving a Christmas gift to her husband, Gramps, every year in the same box. Eventually the box made its way into the family. Each year someone new receives a gift in the box. This year I got the box! Because the box is valued and part of tradition, just getting the box was a gift.

But the blessing didn't stop there!

Before I continue, you'll need some back story: nearly two years ago I had a naked wall in my house. While visiting my s.i.l. her buffet (which was being stored under her house) asked me if it could come live at my house on that naked wall. My heart went out to the abandoned buffet, and I asked Lindsey if I could "store" it for her . She agreed, and in addition said I could "paint it whatever color I wanted to." Being the thoughtful s.i.l. that I am, I chose a color that would never compliment the colorscape (it should be a word) of her home, RED!
I really want to store the buffet as long as possible.

Shortly after we Michael painted it red his parents were over visiting. Michael's dad liked the buffet, but commented that I needed a red bench in my front window to compliment it. I agreed, and ever since have been searching for a bench to compliment the buffet.

This Christmas my search was over-

Michael's dad made me a bench and painted it buffet red! As they removed the sheet, displaying my thoughtful gift, tears filled my eyes, and I said, "You had me at the box."

It is so good to be known.