I dislike Valentine’s Day. I almost used “hate” there, but eh, Valentine’s Day isn’t worth my hate.
The Yankees, on the other hand…
Maybe Valentine’s Day would give me the heart-throbs and the dizzies if I was ever romantically involved with another on this sorta made-up holiday. Maybe someday I’ll devolve into that pathetic state.
Last week at my life group, a woman graciously shared how she first came to know the Lord — on Valentine’s Day, of all days. We had a “Jesus is my valentine” get-together where we wrote love letters to Jesus and hung them on a tree. It made this year’s Valentine’s Day the most memorable since my childhood scavenger hunts for candy/money.
Still not sure how my parents tied scavenger hunts into Valentine’s Day, but I’m not complaining.
I wish I’d taken a picture of my Jesus-valentine card, but let me tell you the gist of it.
I drew some artsy hearts on the cover, along with the simple question: “Who am I?”
It’s the title of my favorite Casting Crowns song, and the question also aligned with where my church is currently studying through the Bible. In 2 Samuel 7, God promised David a ton of awesome stuff.
And David basically responded to God by saying, “Me? How do I deserve any of that? Who am I?”
And that’s just it. David didn’t deserve any of it. God knew David would sin like a dog, and as such, David deserved a doghouse, not a mighty kingdom.
God similarly blesses me, despite continual falls and failures to fully trust Him.
Who am I?
I’m all those words in my banner, but maybe above all I’m a filthy sinner who doesn’t deserve an ounce of love this Valentine’s Day.
And yet I’ve been given it, day after day, in hearty abundance. I don’t pretend to understand this love, but graciously accept it.
His love supersedes anything that can be expressed between any two humans on this day. His love never fails. Where countless other relationships have failed me, His is a relationship He’ll never call off.
Despite any romantic barrenness in my life, Jesus will forever remain my perfect valentine. Not in the cheesy heart-shaped box of chocolates sense, or a needlessly extravagant diamond necklace kind of way.
Just a Man who suffered and died for me. Someone who desires that I too suffer as He did, promising always to hold my hand. Because in the midst of chaos and confusion and thousands of potential loveless paths to trod, that’s the one worth walking. A life worth living.
A love worth sharing with the world.Twitter and join my mailing list for a free 5-chapter excerpt of STRUGGLE CENTRAL, now in paperback.