A good friend of mine, one whose heart is set toward God and honest with people, wrote this: “Words fill me up. I need to hear you say it. My heart floats when I hear the detailed reason behind the decision.” She was referring to an interaction she had with her husband, and can be found here.
You could definitely call me a words person. I’m in the field of graphic design, which can sometimes be better referred to as the art of communicating clearly and effectively. That being said, it is a natural bent of mine… desiring to understand and be understood, and to express myself. I also think that words are how I love others. Affirming them, encouraging them, speaking truth to them. I sincerely enjoy telling people how great I think they are.
On the flip side of that, words fill me up. Not in a way that you would normally think of though. It’s not that I want to be complimented every time I drab up, or verbally patted on the back every time I do something useful… my desire for words is rooted deep in the reality that I long to know and be known. When it comes to J, it always delights my heart when he intentionally observes things about me or our relationship and then shares them with me. This gives me a chance to see, and know, the depth behind his “I love you.” And I will be honest and say it has a way of bringing comfort on a day when I’m missing him, or discouraged. It also has a way of rooting more confidence about his heart for me. And when he inquires about something I share, or a story I’ve told, or just how I’m feeling (honestly feeling)… it makes me feel known.
When it comes to work, I like to be 100% clear about what my boss asks me to do, what his expectations are for a particular project. This gives me a direction to go in, and confidence in how to go about it. Thankfully, I work in an environment where I have complete freedom to share what’s going on in my head or my heart. A true blessing.
In friendships, I’m the girl who will communicate what is on her heart or in her head, relatively freely (with tact, I promise). But those women who are true friends of mine? They know to listen and love me through the process, no matter what ridiculousness comes out of my mouth, because they know I’ll eventually land where God would have me land. That makes me feel known. A secure place to go when I want to externally process, a place of no judgement, a freedom place where I can take my time in figuring things out. True friends are rare gifts. Hallelujah for the ones in my life.
Words of the Bible. I confess I am ever hungry for Scripture, more than I think I have ever been. The pages are all marked up, where I’ve underlined and circled and written prayers in the margins. (Don’t get me wrong, the underlining and circling don’t mean much of anything if I didn’t truly long to know God by way of His words.) In the pages of the Bible, I am continually reminded about how I am known, even how Abba unceasingly desires to know me. But the Bible is also how I come to discover and cherish the deep depths and many facets of the Trinity. It is something tangible I can hold, read, and immerse myself in. By it I know, and am known. I know who I am, and I know whose I am. The everyday hope of my life.
Some reflecting for today.
