Valentine's Day, Schmalentine's Day

Last week, Hallmark most likely made half their annual sales. The floral industry and the teddy-bear factories got their usual business boom, even though the sales were probably down a bit.

Candy hearts, chocolate kisses, sentimental wishes.

After high school, I began to dread Valentine's Day. No other day that I know of provokes more tears from the unattached who wish they were firmly attached to someone, anyone. Even worse for those whose marriages just turned sour or whose budding romance wilted before the big day arrived. Oh, the drama.

Over my single years, I received a few gifts from the very occasional boyfriend, but I couldn't keep any of them permanently. When the relationship dissolved, it hurt too deeply to stare at the aftermath. I'm a romantic at heart, and broken romances in my past are in some ways still tender to the touch. (Yes, even after experiencing a wonderful marriage.) I can't explain why--except to say that when I invest myself in someone, I throw my heart and soul into the bargain. When it came to my affections, I went for broke a few times and got my heart tangled and mangled in the process.

But let's move on, shall we? This post is not just about all the sorrows I plowed through when the calendar inevitably turned to February 14. This year, my Valentine could be found sitting across my table, watching TV in my living room, and even cuddling up next to me in bed.

And I discovered something. This year, when the calendar flipped to V-Day, it was mostly another day. A wonderful, enjoyable day, yes. But another day with my loving husband. I didn't have outrageous expectations that couldn't be met. It wasn't all romance and googly-eyed sappiness. It just was.

It turns out, after all, that Valentine's Day is really no big deal.

Now I'm not trying to tell you "it's not a real holiday" and I certainly wasn't wearing black (as do some whose names are irrelevant). I bought the card and the chocolates, too, people. I'm not immune. And the inspiring card from my husband will remain on my dresser for a week at least. He did a bang-up job, and as far as I'm concerned, the card is a keeper.

But, when we reduce loving sentiments to a one-day-a-year proposition, everyone loses. Husbands and wives let themselves "off the hook" until their anniversary, children and parents sometimes feel good about expressing their love just once a year, coworkers might turn mean again on February 15 . . . well, you get the idea.

Tonight, it's the dailyness of life that seems to mean the most to me. Especially when marriages around me seem to be crumbling. And all my prayers for healing don't seem to stop the tide of years of unexpressed angst, unthoughtful treatment, unsaid words that needed so desperately to be heard.

For now, I will keep on praying. I turned to I Corinthians 13 about an hour ago, and I prayed verses four through seven for some friends of mine. I prayed that God would show them how to love, that he would show them how to heal. How to rebuild. How to hope again.

And as I was reading these verses, over and over again, the words hit with fresh force. These words are a guarantee of how God feels about the love between he and me. He's really crazy about us, folks. Unconditionally. Irrevocably. Undeniably. And if Valentine's Day would be about anything at all, I wish it would be about this:

Suzie (insert your name here), my love is patient and kind.

I don't know if you've noticed, but it's not jealous or boastful or proud or rude.

Turns out, my love does not demand its own way.

Even when you're selfish, my love is not irritable, and I don't keep a record of when I have been wronged.

I've been there through every moment of your history, and my love is never glad about injustice, but it rejoices whenever the truth wins out.

Suzie, today I hope you know that...

my love (for you) never gives up,
I never lose faith in you,
my love always hopes for you,
and most importantly, my love endures through every circumstance in your life.

This is the kind of love I'd always hoped for. And it was there all along. When I felt and knew it, deeply. When I wasn't sure. When I hurt. When I rejoiced. When I won, and at the times when I felt I lost everything.

I can testify, this is one love that never fails. A love for me, and a love I hope and pray you will realize, too. (I Corinthians 13:4-7)