Divorce Journal Entry #22

2:29 pm

The more I think of my wife’s love language the more it makes sense to me. Did I fail to say I love you to her? Did I do too little too late?

I don’t believe so.

Despite the pain I’m feeling I have an inner sense of peace. God knows that I love my wife more than anything; that she is and has been my first priority. God knows that I tried immensely to tell my wife that I love her in my language.

Unfortunately it was not communicated as intended. Made perfect sense to me, but how can a man who speaks English effectively communicate with a man who speaks Chinese? Sure they will understand some things, but they cannot communicate as effectively as they would if they learned the language of the other.

I’ve been thinking quite a bit today about this fact.

Amie used to give me cards, write me notes, and cuddle with me. Those acts, too, were not as effectively received as it was generously given. Why? Those things did not speak my languages of love.

At the same time, my wife was also very good about saying I love you in my love languages. She never hesitated to prepare supper, clean around the house, or buy me chocolate milk. She understood my languages, and those acts/gifts spoke volumes to me.

How I wish I had truly known this earlier!

She used to tell me, and I would listen. But it never made more sense to me than it does today.