If you have read my bio, then you know that I did not grow up in the best environment.  My childhood was filled with drama and trauma.  When it came to love, my parents did not show or express it well.   One was not affectionate at all and the other was too affectionate.  One expressed love in complete and utter silence while the other expressed their love in extravagant gifts.  Therefore, I grew up with a distorted view of love, complete distrust of men, and a severe dependence on self (and only myself).

When I was 16 years old, a friend who was sharing her own deeply tragic and traumatic family experiences made this statement, “I just don’t know how people live their life without Jesus in it.”   That statement pierced my heart and I felt like I had been sucker punched.  In fact, it literally took my breath away.  Emotionally and spiritually, I was like a fish out of water, gulping for air.  You see, I already knew that I was broken.  But when that statement was released in that vehicle, the Holy Spirit flooded the car and immediately started tending to my wounds.  It was painful, yet soothing.  It was heart wrenching, yet heart mending.

It was grace. 
It was mercy. 
It was love… pure, unadulterated love. 
The first I had ever really seen.

Fast forward three years and I am standing at the altar pledging my undying love to the man of my dreams.  Vowing before God, our family, and friends to love and cherish him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, from this day forward.  I really had no clue at the time what that even meant.  I was naïve… and in love with the idea of being part of a normal family for the first time in my life.  Bless my husband’s heart, he had no idea what he was signing up for when he married me.  I had seen very few healthy marriages throughout my life, so I was clueless on how to be a wife.  Even though I had been a Christian for three years at this point, I had walls up.  No, I had buildings up, with a huge moat around those buildings.  And alligators with sharp teeth in the moat.  Well, you get the idea.  And as much as I wanted to show my affection, I just did not know how.  It was hard and COMPLETELY unnatural for me to do so.  And yet God paired me with a man whose number one love language is affection.  (shaking my head smirking, cause ain’t that just like God!?)  Steve wooed me with the patience of a saint.  He didn’t push, he didn’t pull.  He just gently pursued me and lovingly adored me… and my scars.  It was painful, yet soothing.  It was heart wrenching, yet heart mending. 

It was grace. 
It was mercy. 
It was love… pure, unadulterated love. 
The second I had ever really seen.

This sounds terrible, but I literally had to force myself to be affectionate and loving towards my husband.  I had to make myself reach for his hand or not recoil when he reached for mine.  I had to train myself to accept his hugs and learn to lean into his embrace instead of just giving him a quick hug and shirking away.  It was HARD!  I had to completely reprogram my brain and my heart.  And it took years.  And while I have come a long way, I recognize that I still have a long way to go.

I do try to show my love in other ways.  I obviously love to express myself through writing.  When my kids reached their teenage years, I made it a point to write them a long letter each year on their birthday to share with them how much I love them and how proud of them I was.  I wanted them to have something tangible that they could hold onto for that year to look back on if they needed to.  A yearly vow, a promise to love them unconditionally, through the good times and the bad.  

I also enjoy loving others through acts of service.  While my father showed his love by buying things for people, I often show my love by DOING things for people.  It makes my heart happy to bring joy to others.  And one way I know how to do that is by making myself available to help them any way that I can.  I like to pay close attention to details, to the small things that people like or need done, and then offer my services to them.  I try to do it with excellence and to the very best of my ability because to me it is an expression of my love.

Ah, but the whole purpose of this post is the title.  While binge watching Netflix over spring break (or covid break), I was mindlessly watching Call the Midwife and heard this phrase “The world is full of love that goes unspoken….”   It struck me deeply so I immediately typed it in my notes app so that I could reflect on it over and over again.  Here it is months later, and it still convicts me.  Maybe more so now than it did before as our world is currently full of such intense hate and anger.  The current trend is to spout your “truth” and crucify those that don’t agree.  And while I try my best to avoid those posts on social media, I also recognize that love is a powerful voice and it’s not being heard because it’s not being spoken.  Which causes me to contemplate… how loud is the love in my life?  Do my family and friends KNOW that I love them?  Am I great at voicing my heart to those closest to me?  Pamela Daranjo said, “Hearts are often broken by love gone unspoken.” Ouch! While I may show them love by being affectionate or writing them a love note or doing something special for them… do I TELL them enough?  Sadly, I do not.  This is another aspect of love that God is growing in me.  It is painful, yet soothing.  It is heart wrenching, yet heart mending. 

It is grace. 
It is mercy. 
It is love… pure, unadulterated love. 
What I hope others someday see in me.


P.S. In case I haven’t told you lately… I love you! ❤