I once received a valentine from a boy. It was a sucker.  It probably actually only cost a few cents: bought in bulk by the cheerleader sponsor at my middle school. The cheerleaders sold these highly coveted and desperately sought after “lolligrams”  every year. So in all reality he may have paid two or three dollars for the sucker. Yet it was still…just a sucker.  But what made it unique…what made it so extremely special was the little construction paper heart tied to the candy stick with a curly white and red ribbon. That little heart simply read, “To Me, From Him With love on Valentines Day” Now, we know it didn’t say “me” or “him”, but the actual  names on the heart simply don’t matter anymore. It is just a sweet memory I have of valentines day.

Now, not every valentine memory is as sweet. There have been dismal days…waiting for the roses to come… or a simple card…or heck, just flipping kiss on the cheek. But my vase remained empty, my mantle void, and my cheek cold.  You simply learn to harden your heart to things such as this. A day set aside for lovers and friends. Partners in life that share their innermost thoughts and desires.  A day for feeling wanted and special.

I grew up with a chip on my shoulder. A boulder most would say. I wanted to fit in, but my clothes were never the same as others, my shoes never the latest trend. My hair always seemed to be a stringy mess,  sliding over to cover my hurt-filled eyes.  Kids were just plain mean. They were nasty and rude and thoughtless. So I grew a chip….that soon became a boulder.

I shut out their teasing. I suffered their ridicule, sometimes not for something I had done or worn, but what someone else had. Yes, I was the self appointed advocate for the underdog.  Anyone that was deemed “less than” all the other kids, always turned out to be my new best friend.  I dreamed of growing up to be a lawyer, so I could defend all the unfortunate, defenseless souls.  I seemed to truly hurt FOR them.  So my hurt and frustrations were doubled. I was a wounded warrior in a fight I could never win on my own.

I trudged through life and learned very little of how to love.  I had pretty much tuned my family out because, as a product of a divorced home I had put a fence up. I walled myself off from all of them to keep myself safe. ” Self preservation” it was termed in my later years by my therapist. They tried in their own ways to penetrate my defenses…but to no avail. It was a sturdy fortress.

I eventually learned that I could pretend to give someone my heart and I would be showered with affection and what appeared to be…love.  But how was I to even know what love really was? Had I learned it, had I experienced it? Did I even want to?

These were all questions running through my mind as a young woman, beginning adulthood. I looked around at my friends, their picture perfect families. They had lived in one town their whole life, they lived under one roof with one family and most of all, the love I had heard about was evident on their faces. Oh, I had been shown love plenty, but I didnt even know how to recognize it. I was fooled by the lies my mind told me about what love really looked like.

When I finally started realizing how bad I wanted to experience that kind of love, I was older and far wiser than the girl who giddily accepted the lolligram that valentines day long ago. I knew that I had hardened my heart to being loved. I had pushed away people who had tried to demonstrate love to me.  I had let people into my life that would prove what I had thought all along….love isn’t real. Then it started.  I started crying out to God, crying into my pillow at night until my heart broke in half. It was destroyed. I wasn’t sure it would ever mend. I had however always reserved a remnant of that little girls heart, just in case.  Just in case I ever had to reach down and start again. And start again I did.

But here I was still not knowing what love really was.

Until God whispered in my  heart….I AM LOVE.

Well, I knew that. Everybody knows “God is Love” and some even have a bumper sticker to prove it.

But God whispered in my heart again…I AM LOVE.

So this time I listened…

“Love is patient” (my parents loving me through my stubbornness)

“Love is kind” (ladies that brought food to my home when there was a need)

“It does not envy” (certain relationships in my life: most say we should be enemies)

“It does not boast, it is not proud” (I am humbled every day by my choices and how God has still blessed me)

“It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking” ( thankfully, those that know me bite their tongue or I’d be in trouble)

“it is not easily angered. (driving  down these county roads proves this daily)

“Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth” (I have seen evil and I have seen it revealed by truth=answered prayers)

“It always protects” (Living unprotected is a scary thing,  which makes me so very thankful to my protector husband)

“Always trusts” (my Amber),  “Always hopes” (my Raigan),  “always perseveres” (My Luke)

“Love Never Fails” (My Bo Davis, who has shown me unending, unfailing, delightful love.)

I once received a valentine from God.  It was  1 Corinthians 13:4-8, it had heart attached to it that said “From Him, To Me With Love for a Lifetime”