Do you know I love you?

This can be such a fragile point in marriage, which sounds strange to those who have never been here. Welcoming another child into our family is a joyous occasion, a blessed moment, but it also means I have yet another person requiring my attention, and this little person requires more than the rest.

It's so easy to get caught up in the babymoon, the trials and joys of motherhood, and forget that my husband may not be experiencing what I'm experiencing.  In fact, he may feel neglected as I coo over our newborn, snuggle and nurse her, wrap my schedule around her feedings, diaper changes, and naps.

Does he know I love him? Does he feel abandoned?  Does he feel shoved aside?
We expect our children to experience these emotions, but do we consider that our spouses may as well?

Time is precious, I see that clearer than ever now.  Have I made every word and action toward my husband count?  If he was to add them up, subtract them down, would they equal love?

I hesitate to ask. It's not just the pride-smacking that comes from the realization that I've fallen short.  No, it's more the thought of him hurting and needing, and me, his other half, being totally oblivious to it all. So I ask, "Do you feel loved?  I mean, do you really?"

And he says he does, and yes, he sometimes struggles, but he says he knows the truth, reminds himself of the truth, and doesn't allow himself to focus on the lies.

It sounds so tidy, like he's swept it into the dustpan and scraped it into the trash, but I'm not so sure it's that simple. And even if it is that simple, I don't even like the idea that the lies form because it means there have been times when he needed me to comfort and to snuggle him, to set aside whatever I was doing, to put him above those tasks and things and people and I didn't.

Life has been so hectic and nutty and wild for him lately. Late, late nights, never enough sleep, the stress of work, and he still manages to give us his love and attention.  I won't lie- it has felt sparse these last couple weeks, not his love, but his attention.  It has probably felt the same on his end.

And I'm at home figuring out what it is to be a mother of five now, and while it's going better than I expected, it's still busy, messy, and exhausting.  Don't let anyone tell you differently!

So I try to fill in the gaps with little momentos of love. A sweet text. A special surprise gift (coming soon to our mailbox!). An intentional snuggle.

I tidy the livingroom before he comes home. I fix my hair the way he likes it. I make the breakfast he desires.

I can't be sure he notices it all, but I do it all with love. When I teach our children, I think of him. When I cuddle our babies, my heart swells with love for him. When I clean our home, I thank God for him and the hard work he does day in, day out to provide what we have.

And, because I love him, I long for more time with him.  I long to love him more and better. Can he see this? Does he know it?

I have this habit of multitasking when I should just mono-task. Focus, look him in the eye. Hear what he's saying, really listen. Be present in the moment, even if it's just in the silence.

Lord, I desire to pour out my life as my husband's helpmeet.  Help me to be discerning, to know what to say and do and when, and when to say nothing at all. Thank you for this man whom you gave me to love; help me to love him more fully.  As Christ serves and loves me, help me to serve and love my husband.  Let me not waste a second of our time as husband and wife, but, instead, to use each moment to minister Your abundant love to my spouse. I praise You for transforming our marriage, and I thank You for the strength of our union. I want more of You, less of me in my marriage, Lord. I know that no one loves my husband more than You, and no one knows his heart and his needs more than You do, Father. Guide me in loving him. Let me not be selfish or self-serving in my actions towards him, but lead me to nurture, nourish, encourage, and support him. May I be a blessing to him, a crown upon his head.