Valentine’s Day.
A “Hallmark holiday” centered around kisses, hugs, adorable stuffed
animals, roses, and sappy cards.
A day full of expectations for that perfect and ideally romantic
gift.
A day for which reservations have been made, proposals have
been planned, and poetry has been written.
A day created to celebrate that most cherished emotion…LOVE.
It’s a time when young loves express their fervent passion
for each other and make rash promises about unknown futures.
It’s a time when married couples refocus on what is precious
and special in their relationship…and remember why they fell in love in the
first place.
It’s a time to cherish another and to be cherished.
I celebrate this.
I can’t say the day has been without painful twinges.
It would be easy for me to expend energy on that line of
thought,
but I am choosing to celebrate.
I choose to celebrate that I have cherished and have been
cherished.
I choose to celebrate that I have had many Valentine’s Day
celebrations with one amazing man…one who treated me with respect and honor,
one whom I shall always remember as my true love.
Today I celebrate that love!
He loved me enough to provide for me – financially,
emotionally, spiritually.
He loved me enough to manage our family affairs wisely.
He loved me enough to spend carefully and save consistently.
He loved me enough to buy that life insurance and prepare
that will.
He loved me enough to document all account information in
one protected location.
He loved me enough to patiently teach me much about running
a household.
He loved me enough to plan for a future that did not include
himself.
He also loved others.
He loved others enough to invest in their hearts and lives.
He loved others enough to spend time showing he cared.
He loved others enough to express specific appreciation.
He loved others enough to bless them with financial gifts.
He loved others enough to say so…and brighten their days.
Today I celebrate his love for his children!
He loved his children enough to make church, revivals, and
camp meetings a priority.
He loved his children enough to work hard to provide for all
their needs.
He loved his children enough to focus on building good
relationships with each of them.
He loved his children enough to compliment them regularly.
He loved his children enough to say so…often, and with much
conviction.
He loved his children enough to fight with all his might against
the invasion of cancer.
He loved his children enough to leave them with a legacy of patience,
trust, and faithful submission to God through times of trial.
He loved his children enough to point them Heavenward with
every fiber of his being.
He left us all a wonderful example of being God's feet and hands with love...
So, on this Valentine’s Day, 2016, as the glories of a week focused on God comes to a close,
I rest contentedly in God's perfect love for me in this moment.
I treasure the memories of my earthly true love.
And I treasure the love of my children.
And I resolve to show more Christ-like love to those same
children.
Because if I speak eloquently to large crowds or testify
boldly in church
but do not show I care about my children’s scraped knees or
broken hearts,
I am as useless to them as a cell phone with no service...
If I claim to be an expert in parenting and all things
spiritual training,
and if I put myself forward as some sort of super-Christian
but yet do not take time to push my child’s swing or make her
birthday special,
I’ve completely failed Parenting 101.
And if I give generously to missions and tithe regularly
but my children hear me griping or complaining about doing
so,
and if I volunteer my time just so I can brag about it on
Facebook
but my children can’t get my attention for homework help,
my words about loving God will fall on hardened heart-soil.
Love is patiently explaining that math concept for the
thousandth time.
Love is gently carrying a sixty pound sleeping child to bed
after having soothed away a nightmare.
Love is watching my child outshine me…and being totally okay
with that.
Love is NOT trying to be someone I’m not to someone who
doesn’t really need me,
nor is it parading
my story of widowhood in order to gain attention.
Love speaks kindly to that frustrated teenager,
doesn’t
complain if “me” time gets interrupted
doesn’t
keep track of how many times MY favorite pen gets used up, MY candy
gets eaten,
or MY feelings get hurt…
Love finds absolutely NO satisfaction in the disappointing
behavior or ill-advised decisions of my children, but instead rejoices greatly
in seeing those children learn to walk in God’s truth!!
Love endures puke-clean up and toilet duty, becomes the
children’s biggest fan, intercedes diligently with hope for their future, waits
with patience for them to find their way.
Love…a father's love...a mother’s love…Christ’s love…never ends…
Beautiful!
ReplyDeleteVery beautifully said Shawna. It was good to see you enjoying being a part of the Camp Choir! Lord Bless you!
ReplyDelete