Archive for September 9th, 2008

With A Cherry On Top…
September 9, 2008

Thanks Gary.

Yup, here’s a big ol’ shout out to a random combo… The Holy Spirit + Dr. Gary Chapman + My little sis…

This last weekend was great.  Rachel came out from Indy on Friday night, and we got pizza and went to see one of the stupidest movies of all time…then we came home and fell asleep watching Gilmore Girls, our favorite show.  (Sorry Dr. Huxtable, I meant second favorite show, my apologies.)  I slept in till 9:30 and then went to Tim Horton’s to get us breakfast… and by “breakfast” I mean some cup of hot water that was supposed to resemble a Chai Latte and black coffee for Rach that I could’ve sworn should have been a delicious Mocha concoction…oh well. I went to my room to wake up that little cutie bug and then it was time to DO WORK. 

Once a year, and only once a year, I cut Rachel’s hair.  It is one of the most stressful events you can imagine.  3 years ago she cried because I cut off 1/2 an inch instead of a 1/4 of an inch!  (That’s not a lie…)  This Saturday was amping up to be just as emotional when she informed me that getting her hair cut was like me losing an arm.  Mmmm. Okay.

The time had come to give Rachel a bit more of an edge, a Roche Reagent Account Manager with a Rocker vibe.

After an hour and a half and over SIXTEEN INCHES GONE she looked amazing and I was one sleepy kitten!  I blow-dried and product-ed (not a word, I know) and flat ironed till I was satisfied… I whipped off the cape, she walked to the mirror and Ta-DA! She loved it! YEA!!!!!  Now I have 12 long months to recover before we do it again…

I hopped in the shower while Rachel swept the scene of poor Rapunzel’s shearing…

My heart was lighter than it had been in awhile… my shampoo was sudsing, sunlight was streaming through the windows, and I love that I got to make someone happy and simultaneously had the opportunity to use my creative skills…it made me feel like I had value.

As we primped and prepped for a night out at The Greene, conversation shifted from light and bubbly to a bit more serious.

Sometimes Rachel and I struggle to communicate effectively, but luckily most of the time we work through it.  It usually stems from my hyper-sensitivity. I can get very upset very quickly over some harmless statement that went through my ears and on it’s way to my brain turned into the exact opposite of whatever was uttered. This happens a lot when we talk about the important stuff… life, God, boys…

As I sat Indian-Style on the floor busy making the perfect bedroom eyes with smoky shadow and faux lashes, Rachel laid on my bed and we started talking love… how we feel about it, how we’ve messed it up, how it’s been messed up in spite of us, what we want in the future, and what God might be up to where our husbands are concerned.

I lamented about the ol’ dating game… It’s been a good few months since I’ve been on a real date, almost a year since a boy has gotten me flowers and I-don’t-want-to-say-how-long since I’ve smooched someone special.  Rachel and I laughed at our boy experiences… and somewhere in that laughter, there was real hurt.  I long to be pursued, and Rachel…used to being pursued…longs to know for sure what’s best.  As she tried to encourage me, I was offended by something she said…even though she said it with the best of intentions.

My eyes filled with five pound tears as the room grew silent. 

Sissy was quick to explain what she meant, although she didn’t need to… my tears weren’t splashing because of anything she said, but because, yet again, I was questioning God… Why am I in Ohio? What in the WORLD am I going to do when I finally have this degree matted and mounted on the wall? Am I making a difference? Will I make a difference? Where is joy? Where is contentment? Where is He?

As I sidled up to her side so that we could pray together, her eyes lit up- “I’ve had an epiphany!”  That made me giggle…mainly because she looked like a mad scientist and also because I highly doubted that this lightbulb of hers was going to be something I hadn’t already considered.

I was wrong.

“Kate…what are your love languages? Gifts and touch, right?” 

She was exactly correct…for those of you who aren’t familiar with “The Five Love Languages” by Dr. Gary Chapman, he presents the concept that there are five specific ways that we give or “speak” and receive love… Words of Affirmation, Acts of Service, Quality Time, Physical Touch and Gifts.  While I am a big fan of any of those, I am a big time gifts and touch girl. 

Some people are better at those things than others… a few months ago at an Anderson family reunion in Chicago, I was blessed by my cousins Sylvia and Gretchen Hagelow who learned the spiritual value in touch while Gretchen was battling cancer as a young, vibrant woman… every time one of these women hug you- they mean it.  Both arms wrapped all the way around you as they make sure you feel loved.   I have tried to share that idea with my friends who are big fans of the side-hug, or horror of horrors “The Pat”… if you know me at all, you know what I mean…

I’ve also been gifted by some wonderful people… things that stand out include Christmas ’02 when I received a Beauty Salon Barbie from my mom and dad.  Feeling a little silly, and way too old to be excited about a purple haired doll, I turned it over to find that a “certificate” for the tuition and enrollment at a fabulous Cosmetology School was taped to the bottom… my purity ring…a glass kaleidoscope… my Story People prints… my scrapbook from my Arnett girls… 30 notecards of love taped to my Jeep… a Ziploc bag of Lucky Charms marshmallows… an amazingly dedicated Song of The Sunbird… my New Kids On The Block bedsheets… are just some of the presents that have brought joy to my heart.

“That’s IT!” exclaimed Rachel again.

“Maybe you don’t know if God loves you because He can’t hold you, and because when you ask for things, they usually don’t happen.”

Bingo.
I never thought of it that way, but she was EXACTLY right.  I long to be held, but my Savior has yet to tangibly wrap His arms around me.  When I ask for things, when I beg of Him, He seems to withhold His goodness from me. It feels like a holiday with all the beautifully wrapped gifts locked in a safe.  You know they’re there, you know you’ll love them, but you can’t have them.

So as Rachel and I bent our heads to pray, I could only ask God to either show me His love in ways I understood or else change my idea of what Love is.

I have to lay down my demands and expectations of why, what, when, where and how God is going to love me.

So on Saturday Rachel and I both lost something that seemed very important…and feel so much lighter now.