Strength in Love

This is a struggle in my life.  As I observed the crowd following my Aunt's funeral I realized, even with the marital track record of Liz Taylor, I was once again alone.  The last family gathering in which I was accompanied by a spouse was in the 70's!  Our family is a hugging, say "I love you" bunch . . . well that side of the family is, and it is strengthening.  Although my Aunt's death was sad, all the phone calls back and forth always ended with, "I love you."  Unless my kids or grandkids visit, "I love you" isn't said in my home, except in my prayer closet.  Sometimes I tell the critters "I love them," but that's a different deal; although they do respond.

As the phone calls were exchanged, I had talked to cousins and Daddy, and although my cousins and I always verbalized "I love you," Daddy and I don't, except I did in one of the calls, and the silence on the other end was deafening . . . I know he loves me, but he doesn't say it; and verbalizing it wouldn't even be considered on my mom's side of the family.  Daddy's no spring chicken any more, well I'm not either, so it seems even more important.  I was so thankful to be able to recall two conversations with my Aunt the week before her funeral, and both times, as sick as she was, she ended the call with "I love you."  My last words to her, were those same three.  That is a dear and precious fact that I cherish.  Love is strengthening and to hear those words, priceless.  To speak those words, has become a part of my mission in life.

I still remember the day I realized Mr. B didn't love me as a wife.  It wasn't so much a realization, as his verbalization of such.  He doesn't want me, he no longer shares my beliefs, but he doesn't want a divorce, so it's simply loveless.  I could say I'm trapped, but that's not really the case, as I'm free to love others and say that frequently.  I'm not talking about dating!  I've already got a loveless situation, adultery certainly wouldn't improve the circumstances.  I'm free to just love, seriously without expectation, and without physical inference.  I'm a very friendly introvert and this loveless marriage is a protection, even if it's not preferred or the norm . . .

I have a husband who doesn't desire me as a wife, a mother who struggles in dealing with me, and a father who doesn't respond verbally to his daughter who said, "I love you," but Daddy shows his love in other ways, and accepting that is how I show my love for him.  Not everyone shows their love in the same way, and some folks simply don't seem to show love to others at all.  I've learned through the years, those people are to be pitied.  To be loving means we are called to love those who don't love us back.  To love others means we try to demonstrate our love for them in the way they feel loved.  Some folks like quality time, some quality words, while others enjoy knowing you cared enough to remember something special that was shared between the two of you.

I'm not really sure how I best receive love, but I do know I want everyone who crosses my path to know they are loved by our Creator and me.   I love to hear the words, "I love you," when they are genuine, and I guess I count them genuine, when I realize there is action with the words.

Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of Elohim; and every one that loveth is born of Elohim, and knoweth Elohim.  I John 4:7

Perspective

This week, I learned that my reflection in the mirror could actually look worse than my already low opinion of my appearance.  The morning after my fall, I realized it was more serious than I first thought.  I felt the pain of a broken nose, but there was more.   I also knew there were some serious injuries on my right leg and left side of my rib cage, but those injuries didn't affect my appearance . . . so much.  The banged up face looking back in the mirror, gave me a new perspective.  As I stood there surveying the damage, thoughts of a different nature came to mind.

Returning to my memory was a comment I had made to YHWH just a few weeks earlier.  Through a time of remembering the "not so good old days" of an abusive relationship and mainstream healthcare dependence, I simply thanked Abba that He had brought me through those days and I regretted having lost my "original" nose to abuse and reconstructive surgery.  I'm now believing, once the swelling subsides, the old tribal proboscis will be restored.

When I saw the injured place on the side of my face, a deep sense of gratitude and appreciation washed over me.  Just above my cheekbone, less than an inch from the outside corner of my eye, and a fraction of an inch from my temple is a contusion about the size of a quarter.  I'm not sure what I hit, but I am so thankful, whatever I hit hard enough to leave that injury, did not hit my eye or temple.  There is a cut under my lower lip that looks like it was probably done by my upper teeth.  Also included was a laceration on the bridge of my nose, broken skin down the side of my nose, including nosebleeds for days, and a scrape over my eyebrow.  In all of that, though; none of the injuries even remotely looked like stitches were needed.

When I spoke with my friend regarding the arrangements for her husband, I did have just a moment of wishing I didn't look so rough to be attending, but it wasn't about me, so . . . end of that thought.  Undeniably, I do look a little rough right now, I'm still the same person I am when I'm just my usual not so glamorous self.  As I consider my bumps, scrapes, contusions, and pains; I find myself truly looking forward to being restored to my "old me."  As it turns out, my old uninjured, unswollen self isn't so bad after all.   I didn't realize what a superficial perspective I've had of myself.  I'm thankful to have this new perspective.