A new Language

Today, as I was walking the sidewalks of my neighborhood I found myself listening to the birds. How many kinds I have no idea, all I knew was the cacophony, the symphony of sound; all of them chirping away in different tonalities, different rhythmic patterns, and different pitches. All of them essentially speaking different languages. Were they in conversation or living in their own solitary world, simply giving voice to the reality that they were there? I have no idea but they seemed to want to try to communicate!


It reminded me of a verse of one of my favorite Lenten hymns, O Sacred Head Now Wounded:

What Language shall I borrow

to thank the, dearest Friend

for this, they dying sorrow

they pity without end

O make me Thine forever

and should I fainting be

Lord help me never, never

outlive my love to thee.

That first line is so poignant to me; my own language, whatever that may be, is not enough! I must borrow another language; learn a new way of expressing in order to reflect the depth of my gratitude for my Savior’s love to me. I vividly recall my college choir director in his last concert conducting this peace and at this verse, the tears filling his eyes. Parkinson’s was taking over his body and while his mind was sharp, his body was quickly succumbing to the disease. Tremors and lack of muscle control were beginning to rob him of his speech as well as the muscle control necessary for his work; his “language” of words and music was being stolen. What language could he borrow?


Could this be the language of the birds? Or maybe it is the sounds of nature? Or possibly the complex melodies and harmonies of a great composer? What language is it? I want to know so I can learn it and use it!


Well, now I am no expert and know only one language (and use it rather poorly at times) but I am slowly learning to speak in “love.” One of the biggest challenges I have encountered in this learning process is the reality that everyone feels and gives it differently. I may feel loved when people bestow on me their touch like a good solid, supportive hug, an arm around me, etc. Another person may feel love when someone gives them gifts or spends quality time with them. So, if someone gives me gifts well, that’s really nice but I don’t necessarily interpret it as a gesture of love. Now, if I know that the other person shows love through gift giving than when I receive something from them, I interpret it thusly but, I have to know their “dialect” first. Just as that same person may be totally put off by my hugs and touches unless they understand my language style as well. When we don’t take the time to understand, we are merely chirping along in different dialects, only communicating to like birds…the sound may seem beautiful but in the end, it is only sound, not true communication.


Again, it is necessary to model myself after The Example. Christ has given me the best example of this tricky language …He LOVED. He did not enter into relationships with people with judgment and condemnation but with love. He listened, with an ever patient heart and ear. He heard and continues to hear the fears and faults of His people and despite all our miscommunications, He loves. With an ever forgiving, ever knowing, ever patient love He works to teach us/me His language. May I be a better student of this marvelous thing called love than I have ever been of anything before.