Three Little Words

I distinctly remember a phone call to my dad when I was a child. The circumstances around the call elude me, but I remember ending the conversation with "I love you." And I remember saying it because it wasn't said often in our home and I wanted to change that. So I did.

From that point onward, I said it when I left the house, when I went to bed, any time it suited the situation. I said it to my mom and brothers, too. And they started to say it back. It became part of who we were. Are.

Over the years, I've learned to say it to friends. You never know when will be the last time you see that person, so if you love them, why not let them know? Now.

And this all came to mind tonight as I was saying good night to my son. I must have told him I love him five or six times. And the thought struck me that if you say it too often, it loses its meaning.

But does it? Does it really?

Because in that same moment, the reasoning hit me as tears stung my eyes...

​"I say it a lot because I can't say it enough."

​I could say those three little words for the rest of my life and not be able to tell him how very much I love him. And that goes for my husband, my girls, my brothers, my mom, and the slew of other people who mean the world to me.

Love may have different shades. I love God differently than I love my husband. And I love him differently than I love my children. And I love them differently than I love my mom. And my friends. But that doesn't change the face that love is still in my heart for the person on the receiving end of my words.

After all...1 John 4:19 reminds us, "We love because he first loved us."

So unashamedly, unreservedly, unrelentingly, I tell you...I love you. I love you. I. Love. You. I'm grateful for you. And I love you. Always and forever.

​I say it a lot because I can't say it enough.

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