Valentine's Day. Scrolling past myriads of romantic social media posts. Flowers. Chocolate. Dates. These things happen every year around the 14th of February. I too scan Pinterest and rack my brain to think of something or someway to make the day special. I also look forward to not having to cook supper.
This year was very different. I knew from the beginning it would be. With us living in Belize I knew my husband would not bring me flowers. (Unless he picked them out of the yard) I knew there probably would not be chocolate, and I definitely knew there would be no babysitter or night out.
I planned a simple, special breakfast with a bit of bacon I had been hoarding. It was special since I hate getting up early and never eat breakfast with my husband. I was feeling a bit disheartened because I had no way of decorating the table and no fancy dinnerware to even attempt a romantic meal. So out came the plastic plates, and I comforted myself in the knowledge that we had after school plans to go to town for groceries and out to eat for supper.
After school we loaded up on the cycle and headed down the road to pick up a vehicle we had been told we could borrow (our recently purchased truck has been waiting on parts for weeks). We pull in to discover there is none available. Since it already was late we decided to wait and go another day.
I have to confess I was rather dissapointed. I was so excited to finally have a date. (Not to mention we really needed groceries. Which meant I couldn't make anything special at home.) After a few minutes entertaining thoughts like these, and annoyance at people who had romantic plans, I was convicted of my foolishness. Our love is not measured by fancy dinners or expensive gifts or 12 red roses. Everyday actions confirm it. I have been very happily married for over 4 years so ONE day cannot define my husband's love for me.
Our warmed over leftovers were delicious and our marriage has survived an unromantic Valentine's Day. I was jolted even further into reality by hearing that the vehicle we wanted to take was holding a husband and wife who were on their way home from a doctor's appointment. The wife found a mass that they were checking for cancer. News later confirmed worst fears that it looked that way and the necessity to go for another opinion and maybe treatment. Only a few weeks ago she was given a clear report from her cancer doctor.
Suddenly I have the most romantic Valentine's Day. My leftovers are fit for a banquet, and I hug my husband and son just a bit tighter.
O God, your ways are hard to understand, but thank you that Your love will never let us go!
