How do you say ‘I love you’? With poetry, flowers, acts of kindness? A few years ago I did a bible study where we learned about the Five Love Languages written by Gary Chapman. It was interesting, but I found myself being caught up in worrying and wondering what someone else’s love language was and if I was speaking their language. Those love languages are interesting to study, but there’s a greater point that I hope no one misses and that is, that no matter what you do or how you do it, let the people around you know that you love them. Sometimes there isn’t any better way than to utter those three little words, or string those eight letters together and write them out.
Have you noticed that the written word is becoming more and
more obsolete? We don’t send too many
handwritten letters anymore. In fact, not
too long ago a friend of mine commented about the joy of getting a handwritten
card. There’s just something so personal
about this way of communicating. When my
husband and I were first married I asked him to write me a love letter. I think he actually paled at the
thought. It wasn’t that he didn’t love
me; it’s that the thought of putting his feelings down on paper took him way
outside his comfort zone. He knew this
was important to me, so he caved and wrote me a letter. It is incredibly sweet and I cherish what he
said, so I’ve carried it with me for the past 18 years.
Talk about tough cases of self-expression, my father ranks right up there. When I was young my friends would ask me if he was mad. I would turn to look at his face and reply (every time), “No, he just looks that way.” Even though his expression seemed stern, I never once doubted that he loved me or that I could crawl up into his lap at anytime and he would hold me tight. When I was very young, he would invite me to go to the barbershop and then take me to the DQ afterwards, which was his way of letting me know he liked my company. As his years have advanced he has become a much mellower person, I credit the grandchildren and my mother. My mom was always nudging him, and whispering things like, “give her a hug,” “tell her you love her,” and so on, she knew I needed these things from him (Mom gave out hugs and I love yous in abundance).
Knowing that my father wasn’t the most demonstrative man will help you appreciate the fact that fourteen years ago, when I was pregnant with my youngest daughter, I received a letter from him. Being pregnant is fraught with emotional highs and lows, so what a beautiful gift I received in the mail that day to help me through the last few weeks. If you could only read it, you would be able to feel the emotional depths he went to, as he tried to express to me how much he loved me. With his bold and almost illegible handwriting, he put his feelings on each page. It brings tears to my eyes even years later because his words meant so much and I knew what it took for him to write them. His letter is kept right beside my husband’s; they both go with me wherever I go.
Taking this as my inspiration I decided then to let people
know, this side of heaven, what they’ve meant to me because if my dad and my
husband can do it, then so can I. Too
many wonderful things are said over caskets, things that should have been said
before, but for whatever reason silence reigned. One of the first letters I wrote was to my
mother. I told her how much I loved and
appreciated her and all the wonderful memories I have growing up. My first letter was probably my easiest to
write, but a girl has to start somewhere and writing a love letter to my
beloved mom was a great starting point.
Of course she loved it, she’s a good mom, but I also could have
scribbled on a piece of paper with a crayon and called it art and she would have
framed the thing. That’s what great moms
do.
I decided to write my next letter. God had settled a name on my heart, my
grandmother’s. Now, my father’s side of
the family is wonderful and I love them dearly, but showy displays of affection
are not their most prodigious quality. So,
keep in mind that this is my father’s mother and that the apple
hadn’t fallen far from the tree. At the
time she was about to turn 82, and I didn’t know how much longer she would be
with us (I’m pleased to announce that she is 98 and still going). Pushing aside any fears of how my letter
would be accepted, I forged ahead.
Uppermost in my mind was that I wanted her to know what she meant to me. Did you get that one word? I wanted her to know. I was a little apprehensive about it, so I
let my dad read the final draft before it was sent. He sat quietly for a moment and then told me he
loved every word. He also told me, “Don’t over
think it. Just send it.” By the way, I get told this a lot because I
have a terrible tendency to overthink situations and will talk myself out of
doing whatever it is I was thinking about doing.
Maybe my dad could sense my uncertainty, so he proceeded to tell
me the story about a letter that he had written to his father. A letter filled with tender emotions, full of
love and respect, letting his father know how much he had meant to him. This letter was written to my grandfather as
he lay dying of cancer, his body becoming frailer by the day. My father, so stoic and reserved, second
guessed himself, he overthought things, and never sent the letter. Grandpa passed away a short while after that
and my dad said that it will be one of the few things that he regrets not
having done. His encouragement to me to
"let the living know how we feel" seemed even more profound.
I was reminded this past Sunday that God’s Word is His love letter to us. Amongst those words of love Jesus asked His believers to love each other, even those that are difficult for us to love. If Christ can love His enemies from the cross how can we do any less? Weren’t we all, at some point, an enemy of the cross of Christ? We deserved His wrath, “But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved.”
So strike out boldly, praying that your words will be well received “For God has not given us a spirit of timidity, but of power and love and discipline” (2 Tim 1:7).
“‘If only’. Those must be the two saddest words in the
world.”
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