“Can you sign for these?” looking up from my desk, I saw a delivery driver peering over an enormous bouquet of stargazer lilies–my favorite. I leaped from my desk, scribbled my name, and breathed deeply the intoxicating scent.
In my excitement, I didn’t bother to read the card. I was a newlywed, and only two of us were in the office, so I assumed the flowers were for me.
I heard the door close, signaling my co-worker's return from lunch; I invited her to see the gorgeous flowers my husband sent. She, oooh, awed, commented, “I bet the card's message was as beautiful as the flowers.” I reluctantly confessed that I didn’t even look at the card in my excitement but that we could read it together.
I pulled the card out of the envelope, stopping as I read my co-worker’s name. I stumbled over my sincere apologies, cracked a few jokes, and laughed off my embarrassment. But as soon as my door closed, I burst into tears.
Why hadn’t my husband sent me flowers?
He never sent me flowers in our three years of dating, but this was our first Valentine’s Day as newlyweds. Was it so wrong to ask, dare I say, expect that he would surprise me with a beautiful bouquet?
Drying my tears, I was encouraged that today was not over. There were still hours in the day for him to surprise me. Yes, that was it; I left this morning before he’d even gotten out of bed; of course, he had something romantic planned for later that day.
Except, no, not only did he not have anything special planned for me that night, he hadn’t even registered it was Valentine’s Day.
I am not even a big fan of the commercialized holiday, and honestly, I don’t usually get all googly-eyed over what women traditionally find romantic. But that day, I struggled to accept that my husband cared for or truly loved me.
Fast forward ten years, three babies, a few job changes, setbacks, uncertainty, and general world chaos, and my husband’s devotion and faithfulness to our marriage and family daily prove how much he loves me. I have the gift of experience and time on my side now, but I wish I had remembered these two things instead of doubting my husband’s affection in those early years.
1. My Husband Is Not a Mind Reader
My husband has many talents, but reading minds is not one of them. He can barely remember that my girls have dance on Thursdays, which we’ve had for almost three years; thinking about and planning how he will show me love for an upcoming holiday is not on his radar.
More importantly, he thinks in black and white. He is a simple guy who enjoys simple pleasures; God bless him. Reading between the lines, taking the hint when I say, “Oh, I love those flowers,” to mean, “I would like you to buy me some flowers,” likely isn’t going to happen. It’s not that he doesn’t care or desire to make me feel loved; it boils down to him not thinking that way.
So, instead of assuming your husband can read your mind, let him know your desires. Share with him that celebrating your birthday at your favorite restaurant is important and you would like to receive flowers for special occasions, or at the very least, give him a few ideas for gifts you would enjoy.
Don’t spoil the joy for your hubby; be okay if he goes rogue and, like my husband did the following year, plants bulbs as a substitute for flowers (you know, because this way you can have them every year; too bad it takes months before you see the first bloom…). Remember, the thought truly counts, but if he needs some extra items to ponder, help him out.
2. Your Husband Shows Love Differently from You
Rarely have I met a couple that share the same love language. There might be one that overlaps, but more often than not, they have “opposing” ways that they show and like to receive love.
I feel loved through words of affirmation and receiving gifts. It doesn’t have to be extravagant; I just want to know he’s thinking about me. A note scribbled on an index card tucked in my Bible, maybe a heart drawn on my mirror, or a text with a funny meme in the middle of the day. Finding a chocolate bar in my driver’s seat or being greeted by a hot cup of coffee makes my heart smile.
My husband shows love through acts of service and quality time. I can fill his love tank by sitting and watching the football game, hanging out with him while he tinkers in the barn, or just by staying up a few minutes later so we can go to bed and read together.
For both of us, showing love the way the other likes to receive it isn’t natural and often inconvenient and can feel burdensome. Some of the biggest arguments in our marriage were because we couldn’t understand or relate to each other’s thought processes. This hurdle also presented itself early in marriage as we had to work through how we express our love.
Yes, take inventory of what makes your husband feel warm and fuzzy, and try to display that mode of affection and visa-versa. However, if he doesn’t buy the flowers but plants the perennials, acknowledge that and embrace that he expresses his genuine love for you in his way.
Every spring, as the flowers slowly begin to pop through our front bed, I can’t help but chuckle, remembering the year my husband “gifted me” a pot of dirt on the “most romantic day of the year.” The tulip blooms that have appeared with warmer weather for ten years now bring joy and remind me how much I am loved, not just one day a year, but always. It is a gift I wouldn’t have chosen for myself, but I am thankful my loving husband did.
Photo Credit: ©iStock/Getty Images Plus/RG-vc
Laura Bailey is an author and Bible teacher who encourages women to understand what they believe, why it matters, and how to apply biblical truths to their lives. Her recent book, Embracing Eternity in the Here and Now, explores how the timeless truths of Ecclesiastes help us live more peaceful, purposeful, and plentiful lives today.
She lives in Upstate South Carolina with her husband and three young girls, where she serves as director of women's ministries at her church. Her passion is teaching the Bible to women, equipping them to live with an eternal perspective. Invite Laura to speak at your next event or learn more: www.LauraRBailey.com