Cleaning is my Love Language

In case your wondering, my house has looked the same since the break down(s) you read about in the previous post. Until Wednesday that is. I worked until 9:30pm that night and called Mark on my way home. He informed me that he had cleaned the house. I could hear the smile, and pride, in his voice through the phone. This should have been great news to me. I should have been ecstatic. But you see, my idea of clean and Mark's idea is clean is, shall we say, different. His idea of cleaning the house is really more like "tidying up." He's great at clearing the items off the counter tops, coffee table and floor, but stops short of wiping the surfaces, vacuuming the carpet or mopping the floors.

Since I was really in no place to judge anyone's standards of cleanliness at that point in time, I said a sincere "Thank you, baby" and reminded myself to be gracious towards his efforts when I got home, even if it wasn't the sparkling cleaning job I craved, but couldn't quite muster the energy to achieve myself. I got home and was shocked, surprised, and just plain blessed. The boy CLEANED. Like scrubbed, disinfected, and organized shelves and rooms that I've been avoiding for months. I could just about see my reflection in the bathtub. I could have cried, and looking back now, I'm surprised I didn't as that's my usual M.O. these days. I couldn't stop kissing him. And then it hit me. Cleaning is my love language. Words of affirmation? Eh. Quality time? It's nice. Physical touch? Sometimes. Receiving gifts? Sure. Acts of service? If it's cleaning, YES! YES! YES! I really don't think I've felt that loved since our wedding day.

It spoke, and continues to speak, volumes to me that he would not just clean, but clean the way he knew would bless me the most. It was up to me to think of what would really show love to him, his way. The ball was in my court. Let's just say he got some positive reinforcement that night and the house has looked great ever since. A win/win. I think we're on to something.