Monday, April 2, 2012

Day 149

Physical touch is my primary love language.

It’s the way I feel most loved, touching and being touched.

Maybe it’s the Italian in me, or maybe it’s that I didn’t receive this affection when I was a child.  Whatever it is, I have sought this throughout the adult years of my life.

But with the onslaught of this challenge, I’ve had to stifle it.  Truly, I don’t know many women who are comfortable being touched, and many men don’t appreciate it either, seeing it as a come-on.

So I live in my bubble, too scared to touch people as much as I'd like, all the while anticipating whatever physical affection I receive.  Hugs at church, someone patting my shoulder, someone letting me rest my head on their shoulders, a gentle nudge, someone playing with my hair...whatever to feel loved and accepted.

It’s been a struggle.

A couple weeks or so ago, I was really looking forward to spending the Easter service with my friends.  I planned on dressing up, enjoying the service with them, and just being around my Memphis family.

And it was a couple weeks or so ago that I received an email from the kids’ ministry, where I volunteer occasionally.  I had volunteered at the Christmas service, and thought, “Okay, God, I fulfilled my holiday duty…I can have this holiday, right?”

As soon as I opened it, the first words I saw were, “Volunteers needed.”

Well, dang.  That’s not what I wanted to see, because I knew there’d be no fighting God once I saw it.  Selfishly, I wanted to spend a holiday with any kind of family, and didn't really want to help.  I wrestled with it for an hour, but in the end, God won out.

God, I really want to be selfish and claim my right to enjoy the service.

But don’t you want to help the other families?

Yeah, but I already helped at the Christmas service.

You really would be helping.  I need you there.  Your family isn’t here, you can dress up whenever you want; help them.  In however long, it may be you that has a husband or a family that you wish to spend the holidays with, and won’t you be thankful for the volunteers then?


I know this isn’t what you want, but it’s what I want of you.  Stop grumbling.  What did Kennon say in that last service about obeying joyfully?

I was bummed.  Selfishly bummed.

But I understood what God said about the families and honoring and serving them while I have none.  That in itself was steam enough to sign me up, but then, while I was thinking last week about my love language, He brought something else to my attention.

Hey, physical touch.  What happens when you help out with the kids? I heard Him ask.

And I thought for a moment.

He's right.  He's absolutely right.  It never fails.

A pair of arms always reaches up to me.

Hug me.  Hold me.  Sit with me.  Sit next to me.  Hold my hand.

I wind up cradling a child in my arms and feeling more loved in an hour and half than I do sometimes throughout the entire week.  This is where I feel most loved, because I'm constantly cuddling and cleaning and comforting.

Now, this isn’t how I planned on spending my Easter, running around with the kids.

But as I watched A Walk to Remember tonight, something Jamie said launched itself into my heart: “Maybe God has a bigger plan for me than I had for myself…to help me through all this.”

God orchestrates a great deal in my favor and if I would stop arguing with Him, maybe I’d see His plans a little more clearly.  So I may not be spending Easter with friends, but I will be spending it in a way that will inevitably bring me more joy than I would have anticipated.  And what's Easter without joy anyway?

A picture I took from the first night I helped with the kids.

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28).