Valentines’ Day used to be one of my favorite holidays. For the both self-proclaimed and defined by others’ hopeless romantic, I couldn’t get enough of the romantic fantasies of my heart. Don’t misunderstand, my love language is not giving gifts, so it isn’t the stuffed animals, flowers, and boxes of chocolates I dig. What I’ve always loved about Valentines’ Day is true expressions of love. You know, the warm fuzzy feelings you get inside that tickle your tummy when someone tells you, “I love you”. I’ve always held a special place in my heart for this phenomenon. Love makes people do some pretty crazy things. Men go to great lengths to surprise their sweetheart… with a new snow blower. Women will spend hours chatting with their girlfriends wondering what he’s getting her, only to realize they forget to get him something.
I’ve had three Valentines’ Days that stand out in memory. The first was in 1993. My very first boyfriend presented me with a Kit Kat bar (my favorite) at a youth basketball tournament the day before Valentines’ Day. I was so excited by a present from my first boyfriend, I could care less that it was something so simple. Then, the next day (Valentines’ Day) after a meeting we had after church, he took me to the kitchen, and pulled out a vase with three red roses from the fridge. I pressed the flowers and still have them in a picture frame in a box somewhere.
My next memorable Valentines’ Day was in 1999. It was my first as a newly married woman. My now ex-husband was working graves at the time, and Valentines’ Day again fell on a Sunday that year. He got home from work and woke me up, telling me to come out of the bedroom- he had something to show me. Since it was Sunday, all I wanted to do was sleep in, so he joined me and we fell fast asleep. When I did finally wake up, I walked out of our bedroom, and saw a line of Hershey Kisses going from our bedroom door, through the kitchen, and into the living room. But as I looked closer, I saw something else… ants swarming all over the no-longer appetizing chocolate treats! Luckily for me, there were still some left over in the bag which the ants hadn’t found.
The third memorable V-Day was three years ago, 2009. I’m sorry if I’ve already told this story, but I think it’s worthy of re-telling. Don Queco had driven to my house late at night the day before V-Day (Friday night) because he had been worried about me. I had been down that evening because he had a date and I didn’t. So I’d gone to bed early and turned off my phone. He drove 30+ minutes in a snowstorm to come check on me… and I didn’t hear him at the door. Not willing to give up, he left, and came back at I think 7AM the next morning, bringing breakfast he’d cooked me (and this time I woke up). There was scrambled eggs and sausages shaped like X’s and O’s, and one heart. Again too sleepy, we fell asleep on the couch and then had breakfast (this time, though, no ants or other bugs attacked the food). Then we had a blast going shopping together, which included him trying donuts in his stick shift Hyundai Accent in the Wal-Mart parking lot… which was covered in snow. We also pretended we were newlyweds at Cost-Co, picking out our new living room furniture, making-out on one of the couches to see if it would be comfy enough. We tried some of the food samples, including one where he had one in his mouth and asked if I wanted to try one, and when I said yes, he leaned down and kissed me so I could try it to. After chewing it, blushing profusely in front of the lady doing the food demo, I said, mmm, that was good! (I was so embarrassed!)
The past couple years have been lonely Valentines’ Days. So this year my focus is on feeling love from someone else. My Heavenly Father. I could share with you countless memories of times where He has touched my heart and my life. Thousands of memories when He has brought laughter, joy, and peace into my life. Unfortunately, being the fallen human being that I am, I often struggle to feel His love. I’m sure He loves me, but I get so bogged down in thinking I’ve disappointed Him, that it’s hard for me to enjoy those little blessings. At times when I can’t feel His love, I feel even more lonely than normal, especially around this time of the year. But I realized something today.
A few deaths have occurred over the past week that hit the media, and struck my tender heart strings. But instead of the anger or callousness I read many people posting about online, I felt only sorrow and compassion for these people. In my eyes, these are people who were very troubled, so much so that they felt the need to do something horrible. My heart aches for them. There are many times where I wish I could give someone who is hurting a hug, and the love from my heart could physically be passed on to theirs, comforting them and giving them strength. That’s what I wished for these people. No, I’m not excusing poor choices. But I so wish they could have felt their Savior’s love. And then it hit me. Don Queco’s death has forever changed me. Instead of feeling anger, bitterness, and disgust when people take their own lives, or engage in behaviors that ultimately lead to their death, I feel only love and compassion. And I realized- this must be how our Heavenly Father feels for them. Not only that, but I can feel His love by loving others of His children.
The next step for me is being able to feel and accept His love for me. I struggle with believing this love and forgiveness applies to me too. Which, I know doesn’t make any logical sense. If He loves even those who make really, really bad decisions, why would He not love me? Because I should know better. Because I don’t suffer from a serious mental illness. Because I keep making the same mistake over and over. But the scriptures teach us that God is no respecter of persons. They teach Christ’s Atonement was for all. Even me. And that is the ultimate gift of love. Why then, can’t I accept that?
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