So you already know I’m into This is Us; at least we’ve got that out of the way. (Still waiting for an episode that doesn’t make me blink away tears. Good grief. I am such a sap.)
But there were two moments I resonated with in the last episode–which, if you’re a parent of a teenager, or a child in general, will likely echo with you even if you have no idea what I’m talking about.
Twice, an adult character was talking with a teen close to them. And they were each shut down with finality. Both of the adult characters, disappointment etched on their faces, simply had to absorb their rejection.
As you know, we’re in the throes of teenager-hood over here. (Should it be Teengate? Is this season not a conspiracy against well-meaning parents?) Sometimes I feel it’s the equivalent of that bird that ran into our window once: thinking it was soaring into promising territory, only to find itself blinking on the ground, momentarily stunned.
But then again, is it fair to isolate this to teens? Isn’t that…love?
Take my friend whose son is battling his brain tumor. Or the one whose son was found to be on the autism spectrum. Or the one who couldn’t wait to cuddle her baby…and now realizes her baby would rather cry and scream.
Love is a series of attempts.
The Flip Side
But honestly–I’m guilty on the other side of this, too.
You know I believe in the love languages; I’ve typed out printable after printable to help us express them practically. But I can see a darker underbelly of them, too. If a husband, say, is seeking to love well, but doesn’t manage to do so in a way precisely meaningful to his wife–hitting the glass with all he’s got–is she really as unloved as she thinks?
I mean, I could keep this clinical, talking about some hypothetical spouse. But I’ve mentioned my husband and I are very different (and this is a very good thing). Sometimes my husband is practically shouting his affection for me, but I’ve been waiting for him to do so like a movie (…or TV show?), or in words of affirmation, or when/how/what/why I wish he would. Like pushing a button.
When Love Doesn’t Look Like You Ordered
I’ve quoted her before on this (in Love is the New Sexy), but I love how Melissa, in her excellent post, Do You Really Have a Good Man? puts it:
Men are human beings, just like women are human beings. But we have let silly movies and fantasies lead us to believe that the REALLY good men are different. That they spend their entire day dreaming up ways to pamper us. We fool ourselves into thinking that the really good men leave love notes and wash dishes and plan elaborate trips and show up with diamonds they can’t afford….
You want to know if you have a REALLY good man? Here’s a test for you. Does he love God? Does he love you? Does he work hard? Does he come home? Does he love your children? If so, then you’ve got a good one.
…. The really good men deserve better than our constant criticism and dissatisfaction. The grass isn’t greener in chick flick land. It’s astroturf. Stick to your own yard, where your really good man is probably mowing. That’s true romance.
Affection and romance are gifts. Needed desperately at times, yes, but still leaving us beholden to someone else. I can hope for my teenager or any one of my children to respond to my attempts to reach them. But ultimately, both sides’ expectations need to be reasonable, open-handed, gracious–rather than self-centered.
We can desire, but not demand the affection of our dreams. We can’t even control someone else’s response to us. Like God, it’s kindness that draws us; that becomes irresistible.
Our own version of perfect affection is a kindness we can’t order–even in the age of Amazon. Perhaps we get so used to getting what we want everywhere else for purposes of our happiness, we can’t imagine people wouldn’t be the same.
But from my own experience? Someone else loving me in their own way is what layers my relationships with depth and dimension. (Made-to-order affection is hardly a relationship, come to think of it.)
So a few weeks ago, I asked God to open my eyes to more ways my husband was seeking to show me affection, outside of my expectations–and I was mildly amazed at the result. Turns out he was loving me well all along.
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