Messy Beautiful Love (13 page)

Until I got married.

Michael’s grandma was a hugger, so marrying into his family meant that I’d soon be one, too—whether I liked it or not. At first it felt a little invasive to me, to be honest. After all, I wasn’t used to having anyone step into my space other than Michael. I imagine that I was probably one of the stiffest huggers they’d ever encountered, but I soon got used to it, and after a while I got to like it a lot. All thanks to Gram.

After a while I carried this little habit over to my parents’ house, embracing them as often as I could. And when we found out that my dad was sick with cancer, I wouldn’t leave their house without kissing him and giving them both a big hug.

When you see that you’re losing someone, you suddenly realize that every minute you have with him or her is a gift from God. Every hug, every word, every kiss—all gifts that I tucked into the treasure chest of my heart. I cherished his wisdom, his loving-kindness, and yes, especially his touch.

We all need physical contact. Studies have proved that, and common sense confirms it to be true. So the only question that remains is, are we hugging and touching enough? Are we kissing
our husbands as much as we could be? Are we holding hands like we used to? And finally are we hugging them with intent? A hug should not only remind them of how much we love them; it should signify that we’re right where we want to be.

One hug from Michael tells me that I’m secure in his arms. I can go from feeling completely frazzled and frustrated to a feeling of peace and serenity in a matter of minutes. When he leans in and holds me close to his heart, there’s nothing quite like it. During those moments I’m thankful for his broad shoulders, rock-hard chest, and strong arms. It’s a comforting place to be. His masculinity is more than something I
want;
it’s something I
crave
as a woman. It’s not a coincidence that God created men one way and women another.

If we go back to the symbolism of marriage and how it reflects the relationship between Jesus Christ and the church, we see a picture of God as our protector, reminding us of the protection a husband offers his wife:
“
He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and buckler” (Ps. 91:4).

God in all His wisdom created men and women so differently. I can only imagine how Michael feels in my arms and how he reacts to my softer, feminine touch. Whether we’re kissing, hugging, making love, or simply holding hands as we walk, we’re speaking a language that’s louder than words, and one that should not be tuned out.

If you’re newly married, you might be wondering why you’re
reading this chapter. Most newlyweds can’t keep their hands off each other, so why would you need a chapter on touching?

When I was a teenager, our pastor gave us an illustration. He said that if a newlywed couple kept a jar beside their bed and put a penny in it each time they made love, they’d fill it up in the first year. But if for the rest of their lives, they took a penny out each time they made love, they’d never empty the jar. I don’t know how accurate that is, but I see the point he was making. Couples tend to get so busy with life that they often forget that they’re lovers. Even worse than that are spouses who stop touching each other altogether. If you are newly married, you need to be aware of how quickly it can slip away when you don’t cherish the importance of touch.

Michael and I have never stopped being physical with each other, but there was a time when things became little more than routine. The more that resentment built up between us, the less we were lovers. And the less we were lovers, the more we resented each other.

It’s important to see the difference here. Sex for the sake of having sex isn’t the same as making love with your husband. When a husband and a wife make love, they are engaged in the moment. They tune out the world around them and tune in to each other.

Forget about what you’re making for dinner tomorrow, what one friend said to the other, or what color drapes you want for the nursery, and allow yourself to be in the moment.
If you’re too busy to make love to your husband, you’re busier than God ever intended you to be. Slow down, enjoy this time together, and don’t let this area of your marriage slip away from you. If you’re not touching the people that you love, you’re missing out on an entirely deeper level of communication.

There are probably a dozen more reasons that a couple should touch, but I’d like to share five of the primary reasons that stand out to me:

1. It promotes bonding between two people.

2. It reminds a person that he or she is loved.

3. It reinforces security in a marriage.

4. It fills up the love tank.

5. It energizes another.

Many couples stop speaking the language of touch because they aren’t making it a priority. Perhaps a better way to put this would be that they aren’t making their
spouses
a priority.

Naturally, there will be seasons of your life when you are too exhausted at the end of a day to even feel sexy, never mind
be
sexy, such as when you are nursing an infant or raising several young children. That’s understandable. Young children can be exhausting. There’s no doubt about it. I’ve been there, and I remember it well. I barely had time to take a shower, and when I finally did take one, I knew that I’d be sacrificing any chance for a nap. If I did try to nap, it rarely worked in my
favor. By the time I was relaxed enough to nod off to sleep, the baby would be finished with his nap and start fussing again.

Depending on the season of your life, your love life may slow down a bit. But keep in mind that slowing down and
eliminating
it are two different things. Never ignore it, and don’t place it on the back shelf where you forget about it. Just like anything else that’s a priority in your life, you may need to examine your schedule to see what you can cut and what you must keep. Sex aside here, regardless of how busy you are or how exhausted you might be, don’t stop holding, hugging, and kissing your spouse. It really doesn’t take any energy to cuddle together on the couch, does it?

Here’s a peek into my life. This afternoon while Michael was out running errands, I decided to take a little nap. The minute he got home and walked through the door, I heard his footsteps coming up the stairs to find me (he does this every single time he comes home). And every time I hear the door open, I drop what I’m doing and embrace him with a hug and a kiss. It’s my way of showing Michael that he’s important to me. It’s really a beautiful thing to see him walk through the door after work. Our two birds start chirping, the pugs run to the door with their tails wagging, and the kids gather around while I give him a hug and a kiss. It’s like a minicelebration of our day.

It’s okay to have a routine like Michael and I do. But don’t let that routine become boring. Don’t fall into the habit of rambling off the same few words every day while you give him
a quick peck on the lips. Be present in the moment. Say something meaningful, and hug with intention.

I’m most responsive to Michael when he says something unexpected. He tells me that he loves me and that he’s proud of me all the time—at least once a day. But when he says something out of the blue like, “You’re an incredible mom,” or “You’re one of the strongest people I know,” my brain flips a switch and the words sink in. Those are the thoughts that I turn over in my brain and think about for a while. And of course, I have the same reaction when it comes to his touch. I’m used to getting a hug when he walks in the door or when he’s heading off to bed, and I like it, but the unexpected hugs and kisses are the ones that tend to sink in the most.

All marriages are different, all our circumstances are different, and all our husbands are different. The important thing is that we’re willing to give our best to our marriages according to the will of God.

On that note, I’m reminded of a conversation with a friend this afternoon. Another friend of ours—a writing friend—encouraged her readers to give their comfy nightgowns the night off and put on something sexy to please their husbands. Some readers were in favor of the idea, while others were opposed to it, saying that while we are in the world, we should not be of it—pretty yes, trashy no. So is it a sin to wear sexy lingerie, or is it okay within the boundaries of marriage? In particular, a
Christian
marriage.

I was able to share this letter that I received from a reader, which is good food for thought:

|   
ELEVEN
   |

Seize the Day and Capture the Joy

M
Y TUMMY WASN
’
T FEELING WELL, BUT
I figured the discomfort would soon work itself out. It could have been the pasta salad or the venti mocha with extra whip that was a surprise from Michael, but more likely it was the Jolly Rancher candies I had been consuming by the truck-load. That had to be it.

My daughter, Madison, and I had recently discovered a mutual attraction to the candy. I’m not usually one to eat sugar, but those little babies had me fiercely in their grip. One after the other, I was popping them in, enjoying every single minute of the
tangy, sweet flavor. Madison likes the purple ones, but I’m more of a blue raspberry girl, which balances things out quite nicely until we’re all out of choices and both of us go for the green.

Yeah, it must be the candy.

With every minute I felt a little worse until I started to feel far worse than I ever had. First I loosened my belt and then my jeans, but nothing made a difference. The pain was so excruciating that I was barely able to walk. Every breath was more painful than the last. On a scale of one to ten with one being a pimple and ten giving birth to quadruplets, this pain was holding firm at nine.

I made my way upstairs to where Michael was sleeping and somehow dragged myself, moaning and groaning in pain, over to his side of the bed. Normally, I’d let him sleep through and deal with a tummy ache alone, but this one was different. I wasn’t sure if my stomach was about to explode, and I didn’t want to be alone if it did.

For the next three hours he stayed by my side, gently rubbing my back and coaching me to relax. His voice was gentle and strong. “Just breathe,” he said.

Nothing was more comforting than knowing that I wasn’t alone as I listened to the soothing sound of his voice.

It’s not every day that I appreciate Michael like that. I do for the most part, but there are some days when his actions get under my skin. When he’s had a crazy, stressful day that turns into a stressful week and everything starts to bother him, then
it starts to bother me too. The dog is too naughty, he can’t find his tie, and he examines every spoon he pulls from the drawer and throws it in the sink. Days like that tend to make me forget how soothing his voice is and how comforting his presence can be. There’s nothing quite like it. But I do forget because my view of him is so clouded by stress.