I had a dream last night. AJ is the 6 year old son of my boss. He comes by my desk every morning on his way to his dad’s office and he always pauses to say “Hi”. After school he’s back again. He bursts into the office to tell me where he will be until his Dad is ready to leave. He likes to feed my fish.

In my dream, AJ came to me and told me that he was hurt. I could tell he wasn’t really hurt. It was that kind of hurt where a Mom can kiss it away and I began to explain that to him. I told him how if someone that cared about him would rub it or kiss it or do some other kind of Mommy-magic on his “wound” he would totally forget about the pain. I talked on and on and explained it all to this little child who had come to me with his injury. Then I woke up.

My first thought was “Why hadn’t I just shown him I cared and given him a hug?" I yammered away at him and all he really needed was to know that someone cared and loved him. Love is a verb. ♥

Is that what I do? Do I just talk at people saying pretty things and giving unsolicited advice when all they need is a little love? Is God trying to tell me something? ♥

As I drove to work I thought about the people that have really been there for us lately. Two weeks ago when my father-in-law died it was not a surprise. We have a large family and we gathered immediately. People who knew about wanted to help us. I couldn’t think of anything we needed and said so, but that did not stop people from helping anyway. ♥

Food from our church family was taken into the city and food was brought to our house, too. Flowers were sent and donations made to Hospice. Friends made the trek into the city for the visitation or the funeral. We didn’t really expect that. ♥

Zeke’s ex-girlfriend let him borrow her car so that we wouldn’t have to make the 6 hours drive up to retrieve him. She didn’t have to do it, we didn’t expect her to but she did it anyway. ♥

Every day we get cards in the mail still. An acquaintance brought a basket of muffins on Monday. Today a friend sent another meal, telling me she remembers when her Gramma passed away that it was hard a couple of weeks after when things had settled down and she thought we would need to get together again. I think she is right. ♥

Some nice, well-meaning people have said “I’ll pray for you” but I don’t think they really will. It’s just something nice to say. Am I like that? Do I say “I’ll pray” and then promptly forget about it? Am I too busy to give of myself when needed?

We could have done without the food and the flowers and the cards but the genuine love that moved the giver to action... that we needed! The hugs and prayers… those we needed. ♥

Love is a verb. Yes, it is.
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