Feelings

I'm having a hard time with this one. I find myself writing about stuff periphery to the point just to distract myself from said point. Did you ever have that child/employee/friend who doesn't want to do what they're supposed to, so they fill their time with everything BUT what they're supposed to do? That's me in this moment.

Gary Chapman's 5 Love Languages has been on my mind. Wondering what mine are. And yes, I said are, not is. Acts of service and physical touch both stand out. Touch is the one I want (or don't want) to talk about.

My thinking brain looks at acts of service. The feeling brain responds to touch. My emotions go crazy when someone new touches me. Hugs, hand on the shoulder, pat on the back. Seriously, anything. Women more than men. This has baffled me for years.

I don't know how to describe it. I can feel it deep inside. I literally freeze up. I used to think I was afraid. But that's not quite right. While it's never comfortable, it quickly come to a point of being non-threatening.

What do I mean? I first picked up on this many years ago. A woman we attended church with was naturally touchy-feely. Our families were in small group together. I still remember the first time she hugged me - like she did all her friends. I think she noticed my reaction, though. She said something about how that's just natural for her. She noticed that it wasn't natural for me. Being me, I had to ask myself why?

The good news is that I did get used to pats on the back or hand on the shoulder. I stopped cringing. Though it still always feels different inside. This strong emotional reaction made me think that my love language was touch.

Then significant things happened around acts of service. I love helping other people. It's encouraging when other folks help me. A deliberate lack of help completely breaks the emotional connection. So why do two separate things matter so much? Yes, I know the book says that some people are bilingual. I wonder why.

Two by Two

I was talking on the "phone" with Vania (video calls aren't really "phone" calls, are they?). I noticed her chewing. She chewed on her shirt. She chewed on the cord for her headphones. I mentioned the chewing to her.

I shared with Vania that I chewed on pen caps. Pens break. Then you just have ink all over your mouth. The caps, however, lasted an entire school year. Granted, it was pretty beat up by the end. The stem flat and about twice as long. The top missing. But the cap was long enough that the pen tip didn't stick out.

My chewing was an automatic reflex. My brain engaged itself processing what the teacher said. Chewing kept the automatic part busy while the thinking part did its thing. Vania is the same way. When she concentrates on something, her automatic brain turns to chewing.

Two brains - automatic and thinking. System 1 and System 2. Two separate but emotional reactions - touch and service. If these two systems don't communicate correctly, can they be having separate reactions? Do they both crave something different to feel love? How odd is that?

There is definitely more to it than that. Service makes good friends. For some reason, intimacy requires touch. When my girls were babies, I used to stroke their hair and cheeks. Vania took to it more than the other two. I think her OCD and autism foster a stronger reaction. Sometimes, when we sit together, Vania absently rubs my cheek. I think I enjoy it as much as she does.

So I'm not sure where to go with this now. Or what to do with it. It's just kind of there, for the moment.

Abundance

On Sunday, our pastor taught on the feeding of the 5,000. It will long be remembered because he had this cool slide showing the relative size of the food available to the crowd. And the projector rebooted just as he got there. For some reason, that made it all the more memorable.

One thing that stood out to me was that he didn't draw an application. This is an amazing event. And Jesus really wasn't teaching anything. Jesus made no specific point. He just fed them. The word that came to my mind was abundant.

Jesus fed all of these people - over 5,000 of them - to the point of unbuckling their belts they were so full. And they still had leftovers! Not just some, but 12 huge baskets of food. We're not talking about bread baskets here. These were large storage bins. In absolutely no way was Jesus giving them just what they needed. He gave them way more than that, without calling any special attention to it.

I was blown away by the extreme nature of Jesus' compassion for these people. He had to let it overwhelm Him to go to these lengths. As someone who struggles with extreme emotions, I feel better realizing that it's not so weird. Jesus is certainly better at controlling them. But in these moments He allows Himself to feel so deeply that He just went wild providing for them. That's the people God created us to be.

Words

I read this great quote once... Words never stay the same. The words never change. But what the words say always change. Sorry, I don't remember who wrote it. The "meaning" behind this miracle changes. God uses the same story as a vehicle for different people at different times. What the words say always changes.

Sometimes I make the mistake of thinking a message means just one thing. Like a good work of art, the beholder and the artist come together bringing their own perceptions, creating something new, something personal. God wrote these words for us. Those words never change. But what they say changes as He breathes His life into them.