my dear husband.
He threw out stinky chicken (pre-marinated stuff from HEB that did NOT smell good to me), and washed the pot (act of service - his love language).
AND...he referred to our home and our little family as a 'refuge' - a place he looks forward to coming home to, and a rest from the big, bad world (words - my love language).
That's one of those 'immeasurables' that I strive for, but feel I often fall short. The kitchen doesn't stay spotless, sometimes he has to dig for white socks out of the dryer, etc.
Thanks God!
