The Little Things...

I was trying to put in my contacts this morning. It is something I’ve done for the better part of year now. It’s no big. Eye open, silicone in, blink twice, good to go.

This morning I began the process as any morning. With my right contact resting on my left pointer finger, I held my eye open while allowing the cool, wet plastic hit my eye. I blinked. And then I screamed. My eye burned! I squinted my eye back open and was struck by the intense pink invading the creamy white of my eye. I blinked my eye a few more times before reconciling myself to the fact the intense pain would not be stopping. I frantically peeled the contact off of my eye.

I held it on my finger in one hand while covering my eye (as if holding it would take away its hurt) and began inspecting this small clear piece. Did I put it in backward? Was there a small rip or tear? Did I manage to put a tiny hole in its delicate surface? I put the contact back into solution and placed some eye drops in my throbbing eye.

As the water pooled under my eyelids, I felt something. Looking into the mirror I gently lifted my lid and then, (somewhat awkwardly), attempted to blink. As a small eye drop laden tear pooled in the corner, I caught the drop on my finer. There a small, thin, brown eyelash stuck contentedly.

“Seriously?” Was that it? I couldn’t believe it. Was that little eyelash stuck behind my contact, causing me so much pain? Questioning, swiftly I retrieved my contact and allowed it easily to cover my eye. Painless. The eyelash had been to blame the whole time.

The eyelash was small, essentially harmless. They fall out all of the time. You blow them off and make a wish. Had I known it was loose, I probably wouldn’t have thought it a very big deal. But sometimes the littlest things make the biggest difference...

When the long promised call never comes and the phone never rings. One forgotten birthday. The sharpest, smallest comment placed in just the right spot at just the wrong time. When life is always too busy and there is never time. When the smirky remark is made when the thought was nobody heard. When attempts are made to wave at the friend who purposefully turns and walks away. All little things which get stuck under a thin surface and get trapped next to the place where it hurts the most. In themselves, practically harmless, yet they mean something so close to the inside.

But the little things go either direction. The good and blessings have just as much power and opportunity to seep under the surface as the bad and ugly. The unsigned note with the encouraging word. The signed card saying “thanks for always being there”. The word heard from the grapevine you were doing a “great job”. The deliberate stop just to say “hi”. The awkward hug at the best of times. The five minute conversation which says “you’re important and you matter to me.” In themselves, practically inconsequential, yet they mean something when allowed so close to the inside.

What are you doing with your little things?

I am a Lover

When I came to Spring Arbor as a freshman over three years ago I was awkward. Socially, my skills needed some...refining. I thought maybe I was comfortably a loner...a natural introvert. I thought I was destined to never be in close relationship. I thought I didn’t know how to interact. I thought I didn’t know how to be a friend...let alone make a friend. In the end, I just didn’t know how to love...or, for that matter, be loved.

The process of chipping the icy shell covering my existence was a painful process. I truly did not know how to open myself to other people’s care and, try as I might, I was unsure of how to go about caring.

Slowly but surely, however, my resistance came unglued. I recognized myself and my actions in light of love languages. People saw by investment. I was a doer. I loved by serving. I did things in order to try and prove to you that I cared.

And I, I needed you. I needed your presence. My need was rooted in deep insecurity. No one had really ever come into my life and stayed. If I felt loved, it was the result of someone who was willing to come and spend quality time with me.

But there were a few things I was unresponsive too. Gift giving – I didn’t even know where to start there. And then, well, I was articulate – but unable to share words of affirmation. I didn’t know how to tell you I appreciated you, admired you, wanted you in my life. I didn’t know how to encourage you. I didn’t know how to be encouraged.

And physical touch? You’re kidding, right? No one could touch me. No one was allowed near enough to make it into my personal bubble. I flinched at a pat on the back. Cringed at a hug. Endured touch if given...and never gave. Ever.

So it’s been three years. And I stop to consider how much my heart breaks – because I have found a means within side me which not only cares but feels deeply. My heart breaks, because I love. And I want to love. Some days I wake up and pout at the list of things I “must” accomplish. Because...I would much rather just love on people instead.

I have since stared to think about what it meant for me to love on people. If I wanted to do nothing but love on people for a while...what would it look like? And my response? “EVERYTHING!” Or mostly...

I am stuck on writing these encouragement notes every week... a few standards and then an assortment of others...because I just want people to know they are thought about, appreciated. I want to bring you cupcakes; I want to come up with a way to bring you “snow”; I want to put little gifts on your door for 12 days straight. I will bend over backwards for you on any given day. I will cover for your shift, work on something so you can go to bed (even though it means I won’t get to sleep), make the decorations, try to lighten your load...I still want to serve. I still want quality time...I am going to look for opportunities to be with you...whether it means just “being”, or it means we are doing or giving alongside one another. And, I want to physically show love. I’m not very good at it yet. I don’t think to give the hug first...but I want to. I want to love on you this way.

Perhaps the world, this world, has shown me how to love. It taught by example a loving life where it was possible to serve, to give to, to be with, to affirm, and to touch. I’ve learned to feel loved in all of these ways. I’ve learned to treasure the smallest of notes with the smallest affirmation – reminders I am valued. I’ve learned to feel cared for and not helpless when others do for me. I’ve learned to love it when someone pats my head or touches my shoulder. I’ve learned to feel loved when someone wraps their arms around me and holds on tight.

And I’m coming to find these things I have been taught...are becoming natural as responses. I want to do them. The more I love you (sounds awkward doesn’t it?), the more I grow in relationship with you, the more ways I am going to try to love on you. Sometimes in hopes you will reciprocate and sometimes, some days because I just want to love. I don’t choose one of them because it is my “love language” or even my “primary love language”. Instead I choose all of them because, without endeavoring towards it, I, I am a lover.