I'm Not Getting Flowers Tomorrow

Here comes Valentine's Day...

no peonies for me...

I'm not getting flowers tomorrow.

I’m not talking about flowers from a friend, because I got those.

I’m not talking about a cupcake from a coworker, because I got that.

I’m not talking about little valentines or little notes or little hearts or little bears or little stars or little candies or gummies or glitter or anything that is pink, shiny, or snuggly.

Romance.

I’m talking about romance.

Kissing in the rain like The Notebook, romance.

I don’t have that right now. This is okay. 

To say that I don’t care spills over into a different place.

I do care. I care a lot! Romance is great! 

Some people have this romance. It comes out on Valentine’s Day. It comes out on my Facebook feed. It comes out on Pinterest. It comes out everywhere, and I manage to dodge the spirit of comparison to the very best of my ability. Other people’s romance does not upset me. 

Like I said, I’m not getting flowers tomorrow.

I don’t have that right now. 

On Valentine’s Day, I see the place in my life where that could be there. There is room for it. It’s not a void. It’s not something I need to survive. Jesus is my everything. He is the ultimate romancer of souls, He’s the one that I LOVE. Last year I wrote about this here. 

The same way that my heart stirs when yet another friend is having a baby, my heart stirs on Valentine’s Day. 

This is okay. 

It’s not a desperate stir. 

It’s not a ‘eat my feelings’ stir. 

It’s not a ‘cry myself to sleep’ stir.

If you’re doing those things, you need more of Jesus telling you you’re beautiful every morning, and more of Jesus telling you He loves you with the sky, and with the birds, and in the little ways He whispers. Jesus does those things. He fills the voids permanently. He is the hope. He is the love.  

It’s not Jesus during your single season. It’s still Jesus when you’re dating. It’s still Jesus when you’re engaged. It’s still Jesus when you’re a wife. It’s still Jesus when you’re a mother. Nobody comes along and relieves Jesus of His place in your life. And anytime you put someone where Jesus is supposed to be, you’re in for a fierce disappointment, because they (your boyfriend/husband/children) just won’t live up to Jesus, and because that place was made for Jesus, by Jesus, who made your heart. 

As for romance—the earthly, temporary, physical aspect of the word—there is room.
I won’t be prideful enough to demand it from God, as if the Creator of the Universe has forgotten to check on me, as one who’s baking a cake, and here I am, the cake, demanding He pricks me with a toothpick to see that I’m ready.

He will know when I’m ready. He will know when he’s ready.

Romance will come, and when it comes, it won’t be about finally getting some flowers on Valentine’s Day.

To the Wholehearted

Tonight, we had a class on the whole Old Testament. It was intense, and beautiful.

What stuck with me the most was that we memorized that David was wholehearted.
He loved big, and he messed up royally.
At the end of the day, though, he was remembered as wholehearted, one after God’s own heart. This is my encouragement to those who love big and mess up big. Those who seek the Lord and obey Him wholeheartedly. The few, the brave, who march in with slings and stones and slay giants in their everyday lives. Those who mess everything up and suffer the consequences, choosing to trust God. I know you're still out there. This is for you.

Here's to you, wholehearted person. 

You are not afraid to feel. You go big or you go home. When you hear the voice of God, you believe it’s Him, and you obey Him. Sometimes you hesitate. Sometimes you have fear. But ultimately, you know God gets His way. He sends people to you, and you know what you need to do. This is the big part: you do it. You do it with your whole heart. You jump in with both feet, without the guarantee of a safe landing. 

Unfortunately (and actually for your good) you don’t always land well. Things don’t always work out well. Sometimes it’s really nasty, really painful. Somehow, in all the pain, you get a flashback of yourself jumping in with both feet. You remember the faith of the leap, and along with that memory comes a tiny, soft whisper “it was worth it.”  There are no regrets for the wholehearted. You can look back and think of yourself as foolish. You can look back and think of yourself as naïve. In the end, however, when you really examine your heart, you realize you’re neither foolish nor naïve. What you did, you did because you were told.  You’re brave. You’re obedient. You get to hear your Papa in heaven tell you how proud of you He is. Other people miss out on that. They get to hold on to their pride, their fears, their comforts, and they never experience broken, on-your-face, busted-up-in-the-pit intimacy with Papa. They don’t get to hear His soothing voice because they’re not even listening.
Sometimes, though, you land well. Remember the victory and the bliss.
Don't forget that the glory isn't yours.

Sometimes you mess up. You royally mess up. You get hasty, impatient, rash. You feel too much, too fast. You struggle with anger and shame. You want your way. You'll fight tooth and nail to get what you want, at whatever cost. Those conscious decisions to do things 'your way' have consequences. They hurt. It's a different kind of pain. You end up in the familiar pit. Humble. And again, the Lord meets you and soothes you with grace.

Do not ever let pain deter you from courage. Do not let the past corrupt you. Do not let Satan lie to you. You take big risks for God. People won’t always back you up, but God’s gifts and calling are irrevocable. Deep down you know that, which is why you are the way you are. You know grace, and you embrace it. You know you are deeply loved first, so you love deeply.

In the end of the day, you experience passion. 

You are willing to suffer for a cause. 

You invest your whole self.

Everybody dies, but not everybody lives, right?

Wholehearted one,

you live.

Walking In the Rain

My friend and I were driving to Chili's and he noticed two women and 2 children on the side of the road, walking in the rain.
We talked about how it was strange and wondered what was up. He decides to turn the car around and go check on them. We pull up, roll the windows down, and something just clicked in my heart. They were Hispanic. I spoke to them in Spanish, and asked where they were walking to in the rain, and if they needed a ride. They got in the car. We learned their names and introduced ourselves, and I made Spanish baby-talk at their children. We then listened to one of the ladies tell us about how she was robbed the other day as she walked home. God have mercy.

We drove them to a little house (short drive, long walk) and dropped them off. They told us:

'This is your home, come back anytime, this is your home. God bless you.'

Photo credit:Victoria Bonn-Meuser / DPA

For all the times that I've walked in the rain in my life, and for all the times that the Lord has sent me help, I can offer Him my heart and say 'This is your home.'

When was the last time the Lord rescued you out of the rain?