Wednesday, April 9, 2014

They speak my language

I wrote last week about my need for words of affirmation.
My husband knows this about me, and he married me anyway.
He does a wonderful job praising me in my roles a wife and as a mother,
complimenting my cooking,
speaking approval and appreciation and accolades,
acknowledging clean laundry,
leaving sticky notes in the most peculiar places,
showering me with encouragement and affirmation and love.
I think Baker has learned this about me also.
The Lord gifted him with such a joyful, loving spirit.
And he uses it to bless my every single day.
Baker loves hard. He loves big. 
When my doubts arise and I question whether I am doing any of this even remotely right, he affirms his love for his mommy.
He smiles a make me weak in the knees smile.
He leaves his toys very briefly to crawl in my lap and steal a quick kiss.
He gets my attention and signs love from across the room.
He gives a hearty, "Yum yum" whether I've thawed a frozen PB&J or cooked homemade mashed potatoes for him to eat.
He pats my shoulder.
He snuggles close.
He sings with me.
He chooses me.
He trusts me.
He depends on me.
He reaches for me.
The language he speaks is not heard by ears, but by the heart. 

Today, I am especially grateful to be surrounded by boys who speak my language.
Boys who love me big.
Boys who love me like I need to be loved. 

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