Day 4 of the 21 Days of Romance Challenge.
All of our children have been little surprises. From conception,
(clarification: I know they do not arrive by stork,) to their births. I did not
know what those little rib-kickers, robbers of sleep were until I met them face
to face. And after: girl. girl. girl. Well, by number four, it was a done deal.
I knew what kind of babies we make. (By the way, I LOVE girls.) And then, I saw
the glazed happy look in Evan’s eyes, and I knew. We now had a snakes and
snails- puppy dogs tails little boy. And when the doctor held him up for me, he
peed. On me. I was christened: mom-of-a-boy.
There is this tenderness between parents and a newborn. The doctors have
now handed me this slimy little person, and within half of a second, I knew I
would do anything for them. I would
die for this person who won’t even profess their love to me for at least a year
of rigorous labor, this little thing that will dirty diapers, scream, wake
several times in the night, expect constant care, and in general need-need-need.
And none of that matters. I just love them. There is a comfort offered to this
child, a comfort that wants to take any pain from them and instead place it on ourselves
if we could, a comfort that wants to soothe, that pities their dependant state.
But somewhere after the helpless newborn stage, our comfort wanes. I’ll
admit I’m not the best at sympathy. I’m usually thinking “suck it up” when
others complain. Certainly, I want sympathy though. “What? You need to rest, but I’ve been chasing four kids with a migraine
for two days straight—you really have no idea!” And the
problem really isn’t the migraine; it’s a serious case of self-pity. The problem really is that it’s hard, next to
impossible, to comfort someone else, when I am nursing my own self pity. We all
want comfort, we just don’t always want to give it. Too often, I use up all of
my sympathy on myself.
David says of our God,
“And when I was burdened with worries, you comforted me and made me feel secure.”
Psalm 94:19
The root of my questions, my seeking after God’s version of romance has
come from my own heart’s desires. What do I want in romance? Security,
comfort—it’s way up there. And everywhere I turn with needs,
He is right at the corner with words that satisfy. He meets needs, even the need for romance.
I love that the meaning of
the word comfort (nâcham) has both a masculine (tanchûm) and feminine
(tanchûmâh) form. It isn’t gender specific. The ability has been designed in
all of us. In Isaiah we see what is required…
“All Our God has said: "Encourage my people! Give them comfort.”
He wants this comfort bestowed to you-- and me. And as capable as He is at filling the need, sometimes
He looks to us to comfort one another. Truly, comforting is even better
for us than being comforted. Love comforts; love secures.
There is a beautiful love story in His story. He wrote it. A
girl, humble to raise up water from an old well to feed thirsty, journeyed
camels. And then he knew for sure, and offered her gold jewelry—offered his
master’s hand. She accepts…
“Isaac took
Rebekah into the tent where his mother had lived before she died, and Rebekah
became his wife. He loved her and was comforted
over the loss of his mother.” Genesis 24:67
And from the book of poems, Psalms, “Then David comforted his wife, Bathsheba, and
went in to her and lay with her, and she bore a son, and he called
his name Solomon. And the LORD loved
him.” 2
Samuel 12:24
There are no words for the comfort of being wrapped up in
strong protective arms, embraced in love, held with desire. And then I wonder
how a man must feel? Our (feminine) embrace does not offer this security.
Perhaps this is why there are masculine and feminine words? We give comfort
differently, receive it differently. Yet we, like Rebekah, do comfort.
There is a love story to be
had in our lives too. It starts with our God, who comforts. And within
His arms He asks us to become comforters. And this comfort is so
closely intertwined with love, it cannot separate. Comfort is compassionate,
therefore inherently passionate.
Romance me Lord, with Your comfort. Help me to love like You
do, comfort like You do. Lord, I cry out like David, and hold You to Your word.
May this be my prayer: “I serve you, LORD. Comfort me with your love, just as you have promised.”
Psalm 119:76
Comfort, sweet romance to our souls, it is beautiful.
God’s love sonnet to me today, as I hold a ringlet framed face, asleep in
my arms, is His picture of comfort.
Isaiah 51:3
Though Zion is in ruins, the LORD will bring comfort, and the city will be as lovely as the garden of Eden that he provided. Then Zion will celebrate;
Though Zion is in ruins, the LORD will bring comfort, and the city will be as lovely as the garden of Eden that he provided. Then Zion will celebrate;
it will be thankful
and sing joyful songs.
My grandparents, love enough to last a lifetime.
Isaiah 66:12-14
Contemporary English Version (CEV)
12The LORD has promised:
"I will flood Jerusalem
with the wealth of nations
and make the city prosper.
Zion will
nurse you at her breast,
carry you in her arms,
and hold you in her lap.
13I will comfort you there
like a mother
comforting her child."
Romancing your spouse as part of the: 21 Days of Romance Challenge?
Here are a few ideas for today-- I'd love yours too:
Take out the sports page. Underline letters that will spell out a love letter if your hubby decodes them...your love, still playing hard to get.
"Steal"
his phone and take a picture of the words, "I love you" in a creative
way and make it his background. (Or on his computer.) your love, staring
him in the face.
As submitted by Elizabeth: Text message a poem, one line at a time, making it up as you go: your love brings a smile.
We're all guilty of self pity and ache for comfort. Great post to think about today.
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