One of my love languages on the Race has been giving gifts. Probably the most random assortment of things I’ve ever given has been given on this race: T-shirts, oranges, cookies, chocolates, roasted corn, clean hair, picture frames, and fuzzy yellow chicks. Gift-giving brings me joy because I love letting people around me know that I care for them and am actively taking opportunities to bless them. It is the love language I choose probably because it is the one I primarily understood and received when I was younger. In hindsight, it might not have been the primary love language that was expressed to me, but it definitely was the one I sought after.
I think the reason behind this is something along these lines. For a long time, I sincerely believed deep down that my worth as a person was closely tied into my performance. As a result, the degree to which I felt loved was dependent upon my level of success; and success comes with rewards usually in the form of tangible gifts. For example, I believed people would only love me if I performed well. Therefore, I would seek love and validation by doing well in school. Success in the performance brought responses of love and validation in the form of rewards – trophies, scholarships, candies, privileges. Thus, I associated gifts and rewards with responses of love towards myself, and then I applied this association to others. Needless to say, gold stars on sticker charts with prizes at one hundred did not help this performance-driven girl quit the connection in her head between giving and receiving love and giving and receiving gifts.
Resting my identity in God alone and not in my performance is something I’ve been growing in since coming to Christ, but the connection I make between gift-giving and love needs to be torn down alongside that. Tying my worth in love to the gifts I give and receive from people is deadly, for one because people give and receive love in many ways. If I give a gift to someone, I shouldn’t expect it to mean that the person doesn’t love me if I don’t receive a gift in return, because people have different love languages. For some, perhaps doing an act of service, or placing a reassuring hand on a shoulder is how they show love in return for my gift. Secondly, I shouldn’t be measuring how I’m loved by the number of gifts I receive, because even if no love is communicated, that shouldn’t bother me. Love is not quid pro quo. But when I fail to have eyes to see this and a heart to accept love in these different ways, I fall into believing the lie that nobody loves me, thinking, “How could they love me, when I’m such a horrible, ugly person?” I no longer trust that people can and want to care for me, and I fear that people are taking advantage of me because they don’t love me.
When I give a gift and don’t receive one in return, I fall into believing the lie that nobody can love me better than I can love myself. I become extremely selfish, and then I begin to hoard things – my bed, my food, my clothes, my time, my ministry, my life. From “my life”, it’s just a short climb to “my kingdom”. And at that point, the spirit of the prince of this world seeps into my heart. This spirit rises up in me contrary to that of the Trinity; contrary to the language of love that each member of the Trinity speaks to one another – a language that I will spend the rest of eternity becoming more fluent in.
So I need to constantly remember that God is love, and love is not God. First, it is from God that I receive love, and even if I were to pour out everything to the world only to receive nothing in return from it, His love would be enough. Even if all were as I believe in my head at times (that nobody on this earth could love such a person as myself), I would be able to love ceaselessly out of the love of God for me. Next, I must realize that the language of love I speak and understand is not complete, and does not define the whole language. God speaks the language in its fullness. Jesus speaks it. He speaks in acts of service when He washes the feet of the disciples. He speaks in quality time in His encounter with the Samaritan woman by the well. He speaks in words of encouragement to Mary of Bethany when she sits at His feet, and after she anoints Him with nard. He speaks in physical touch to the leper. He speaks in gifts when He wraps himself in flesh. And as men tore this gift open on the cross, love spilled out in blood that covered our iniquities.
To have more of Jesus and more of this gift of humanity, I must desire fluency in all aspects of love. I must take down my narrow view and expand it as wide as an infinite God who holds stars and oceans in his hand, but at the same time, dig it as deep, intense, and personal as a baby in a manger. I don’t want to keep missing out on the love that is being communicated to me, and the Christ that is being displayed in these moments because I believe the lie that love is quite literally a gift. And not only that, but also the lie that love is contingent on reciprocity – receiving a gift for a gift. There is so much more to take hold of when I step out of those lies. At the end of the day, I want to be served by the Jesus who washes dirty, unworthy feet. I want to be poured into by the Jesus who spends time with the Samaritan outcast. I want to be encouraged by the Jesus who speaks validation and comfort to the woman who is out of her place and time. I want to be touched by the Jesus who extends His hand to the unclean. And of course I want to receive Jesus Himself, the greatest gift of all, given not because God received a gift from us. No, the gift of Christ was given to bring Him glory and joy in humanity, and to bring us every good thing in the fullness of His divinity. For as the psalmist sings, “You are my Lord! Apart from you I have no good thing.” Psalm 16:2
What is your love language, and how can you expand it? Are there any aspects of love you are missing out on because you hold onto lies?
