being loved, and loving

I am loved. I know I am. As a daughter, sister, friend. As whatever Heather thinks of me as in her sweet brain. As Brooke.

As much as I know it now, I haven't always known it.


When I was little, words (not his own) told me my father didn't love me.


When I was a little older, too much time and too much space told me my mother didn't love me.


When I was a lot older, broken hearts told me he didn't love me.


The backdrop to my childhood, adolescence, and some of my adult life is the notion, and behaviors that stem from that notion, that if my parents, the two people who should love me no matter what, if they couldn't even love me, no one would.

I haven't read the 5 Love Languages books, so I don't know officially what mine is.  I know it's not gifts. I'm willing to bet that it's got something to do with time. Togetherness. Communication.   I think it's the reason why I trust my dad's love so implicitly now. Because he always has time for me, even when he really doesn't. Because he always gave me time, even when I didn't trust it.


Despite all my unloveable insecurities, I sometimes forget to love other people. I forget to give them the time and togetherness that I thrive on.


Every once in awhile, my baby sister will inform me that I've been ignoring her. For weeks I haven't answered her calls. I've half-replied to texts. Might not seem like a big deal, but she's 1000 miles away, and has been for 4 years. Answering the phone, sharing my life with her is kind of important. Of course, half the time she only wants to talk to Heather, but that's besides the point.

She knows I love her.  But does she feel it during those times? Doubtful.

I know she's not being overly sensitive, or making things up. I can feel when I want to pull away. Lock the doors and stay unconnected in my own little world.

But that's not the message, the feeling I want the people I love to get from me. I want them to know I love them. Not to wonder about it. 

If the people I love most question me, what on earth am I portraying to the rest of the world, those whom I don’t love in this earthly sense, but in a heavenly one? Those who haven’t met my Father yet? Those who might be looking to me to see what "it’s" all about?

My unloving will be superimposed on my God. They will think He loves like I do- poorly.

Read through Psalms, and we know this isn’t true. His love is unfailing. His love endures forever.
We see in Hosea that He loves us at the worst of times, when we set Him aside for other lovers.

Read John 3:16 and we see just how much He loves us. 

That love, that John 3:16 kinda love, is what I want to reflect.

And in case I've been neglecting her lately, Baby Sister, you are loved. Even when I don't answer the phone. Even when you are 1000 miles away and forget to come home to kill bugs for me.  Even when you want to talk to Heather more than me. You are loved. As a sister, a friend. And as a daughter of the King. 



For me, today is the perfect day to put my loving into practice. Think I'll go do that.

Brooke