Wednesday, June 22, 2011


I used to measure love in how many I-love-yous I accumulated in a day or how often JD planned romantic dinners. After a few months of marriage, I began to feel very unloved. You see, God has blessed me with a very loving husband, but he lacks a little in the traditional romance department. The more I demanded suggested he tell me how much he loved me, the more I felt unloved and quite frankly, gipped in the romance department. I wanted roses and candles and tongue kissing. I wanted the movies. This caused some strain in our young marriage.

After 3 happy years with the man, I have come to recognize that love is translated in many languages. At least in our house it is.

Love is leaving this much Listerine in the bottle for 2 weeks because we both know how much the other one likes fresh breath, but neither wants to take the last swish.

Love is putting on a tiny bit of makeup everyday so he doesn't have to come home and tongue kiss this face.

Love is making sure there are homemade chocolate chip cookies in stock every week because they are his favorite.

Love is running out to get a boatload of popsicles to satisfy her craving.

Love is not saying a word about how many popsicles are consumed in a single sitting.

Love is respecting the other's right to fold laundry the way that they prefer it.

Love is rinsing out the toothpaste in the sink instead of nagging him about how you just cleaned it.

Love is kissing in front of our babies so they can see how much we love each other.

Love is patient. Love is kind. Love isn't jealous. It doesn't sing its own praises. It isn't arrogant. It isn't rude. It doesn't think about itself. It isn't irritable. It doesn't keep track of wrongs. It isn't happy when injustice is done, but it is happy with the truth. Love never stops being patient, never stops believing, never stops hoping, never gives up. I Corinthians 13:4-7.

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