English is my first language … okay it is my only language. Except that I am female … so there is an ‘other’ language … it is non-verbal, and sometimes believed to be a transcendent language. It is the language of how we feel.
(This is where my hubby will skip down to the bottom of the page to see if there is anything really worth reading in my post today 😉 He loves that fact that we females think with our feelings. That poor man, he has to live with three, highly hormonal, estrogen-filled, instinctual, gut-feeling, eye-leaking, heart leaning ladies! Imagine if we were to all be PMS’ing at the same time? But what is worse … and far more common, is that when one of us finishes PMS’ing, another starts … three weeks running. That poor man has only one week a month to live peacefully in his own home. But, I digress …)
I know that I am ‘normal’ as a female, in how I think with my head as well as my feelings. I am also using enough brain cells when I am thinking with my head, to know that how I ‘feel’ is not always an accurate representation of reality. There are so many times that I have met a new person, and ‘felt’ a certain way about that person (negatively), only to be (happily) proved wrong later on.
All that said, is it not the most delicious experience in the world when you come across that person who speaks your language? When they ‘know’ you, get you, understand your heart? To me, it is like a piece of heaven on Earth when that happens. And, it happened just last night!
I fell into bed late one night, knowing that sleep had already started to fall on me. But, because I was, at that time, a slave to work-related emails, I picked up my phone to see if there are any responses to emails I had sent. And, like good, ol’ fashioned ‘snail mail’ I saw in my ‘in’ box, not a work-related response, not an account summary (aka BILL), not an ad from a store, but a note from one of my daughters! It was the equivalent of receiving a letter from a loved one in the mailbox (which, of course, it is).
The following, was what I opened …
"Is there any way I can help you in the next few days? Your helping me so much & are already so busy so I was just wondering.:)"
The words I read made my heart skip a beat! And it wasn’t just that her email reminded me of how bad grammar can be passed down from generation to generation! It was how her email spoke to me of how she understood where I am was, at that very moment … she got me … she was not just speaking my language, but she was ‘hearing’ my language too.
My response to her was that she already did help me, just by asking if she could … she blessed my heart, and my soul and my mind … because I knew when I read that short but sweet note, that she saw, that she heard, that she ‘felt’ where I was at, and was willing to offer assistance.
Woohoo! I rested peacefully that night! I went to bed with the confidence that someone else under my roof understood where my moccasins were at, and she was willing to walk in them for and with me. And, it was good!