Words of Affirmation

I have a love language. Everybody does. Some people feel loved when they are given gifts. Others, when someone spends time with them. Rob feels loved when I sacrifice my own feelings and desires to do something for him; this is called "Acts of Service". I don't do that often enough. The "Acts of Service" I do for him are usually things that I think are important--like making sure he never runs out of clean undershirts or socks, or cleaning the bathroom (that he spends lots of time in--why do men do that?).

For me, however, my love language is "Words of Affirmation". I am an encourager. I know that is crazy, since I am a very negative person. Anyone who has ever lived with me knows that I complain and murmur a lot. But, it's true. When I see someone down and out, I try very hard to come up with a reason to encourage them. Even if it's a far stretch from where they are, I try to bring some sort of joy out of the circumstances they are in. If you are ever served some affirming and encouraging words from me, that's my way of telling you I love you. Don't brush it off, just tell me "Thank You" and know that you are loved!

Yesterday was a day where affirmation would have served me well. I spent all morning cleaning up the house. I did 4 loads of laundry--washed and folded; there is nothing in my dryer, currently! The dishwasher needed emptying, the sink was full of dirty dishes--half of which needed to be washed by hand. The counter tops and kitchen floor were filthy, so I scrubbed them, as well. After that, I had to feed the baby. Once I finished feeding her, she fell asleep and I went upstairs to scrub the master bath. Yes, I cleaned the outside and inside of the toilet, back behind the toilet and most of the baseboards in that room. Nobody noticed.

Rob came home from lunch early and I was upstairs cleaning the bathroom. He had to go and I was in his way. Frustrated, he went downstairs to the bathroom I had slated to clean next. It, of course, was filthy! Rob didn't say anything about it, he just went about his business. He's a smart man, after all!

But, after work, Rob came home to a house that looked like a tornado blew through it. I had a load of laundry across the loveseat, sorted out in piles to fold. The kitchen table was covered in school papers and folders. Dog toys and kid toys scattered the floors and the kitchen was a mess again. *sigh* Sometimes I wonder why I even bother. Rob came in, took one look around and stared, bewildered, at all that needed to be done before our Monday night Bible study group showed up.

I was so frustrated. All that work I'd put in all day long and nobody could even tell I'd done it. Sometimes I feel so invisible. Like, the things I do don't really matter at all. I mean, nobody tells me how great I am at doing the laundry. Rarely do I ever hear "Way to clean that toilet, Mommy!" or "Wow, did you remove everything from the counter tops just so you could clean the entire surface?". Yeah, nobody thinks to say things like that. I so enjoy doing it all, too! It's like art to me, somehow.

Follow me here: I take a jumbled, filthy canvas and I clean it all up, making it look presentable and welcoming to friends and family. I make it safe and pleasant to the inhabitants thereof, simply by cleaning the filth and the muck. And yet, nobody notices. To me, looking at my clean house and not acknowledging the beauty of it all is like looking at a painting and not noticing the care and the detail the artist placed in each brush stroke. Each color in the painting is deliberate and perfected by the artist; each placement of character and form is made to be pleasing to the on-looker. Nobody would characterize my clean house that way, but I do! Each swipe of the rag and each sway of the duster says to the inhabitants and visitors of my house "I love you and I think you are worthy of all this!"

Yes, there are piles of papers and stacks of junk and toys in a few areas of my house. We do live here and not everyone here enjoys cleaning as much as I do. I consider those areas to be a messy clean--kind of a Pablo Picasso clean. It's beautiful and aesthetically appealing, yet you can't really tell exactly what it is... However, if you notice that my baseboards shine, or that my mantle is dust-free, it's for you. I clean as much for you as I do for me. You are worthy of a clean-house-welcoming.