A Valentine Surprise

“Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices; my body also will rest secure.”

—Psalm 16:9

I told her “no.”

But here I was, two hours later, asking myself, Do you really want to spend Valentine’s night alone? I already knew the answer, but I worried about the impending winter storm. Should I really travel the distance in my car with malfunctioning heat? All the newscasters were warning viewers of the dangerous “feels like” temperatures.

But it’s sunny now. Leave while there’s still daylight, and you’ll keep warm in the sun, I tried to convince myself, And dress in layers and bring a blanket and pray.

But I should stay and work more on my writing, I argued.

I had just finished the Afterword for the devotional I was writing. Now I was scrolling through the Facebook news feed, trying hard not to envy all my friends who were spending Valentine’s with their sweethearts and showing off their lovely bouquets of roses.

I had hoped this year would be different for me, for God knows I've prayed about my situation over and over again. One of the hardest parts about being single—and an empty-nester—is not getting hugs on a regular basis. There are times when my craving for affection is like an extreme thirst—like how I get after taking some of my medicine, which makes my tongue as dry as dust . Try as I might, I just can’t quench the thirst. 

My Most Romantic Valentine

A little deviation from my usual post...

I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.

—Song of Solomon 6:3 

“Really? But I’m trying to write my blog post.” Still in my pajamas and propped up on pillows, I hammer away at the keyboard—in between checking Facebook, of course. I read my friends’ posts and like their Valentine’s pictures.

“Shut it down. Let’s go for a walk.”

“Huh?  It’s 8:30 in the morning.”

“Put your sneakers on.”

“But what about my sprain?  The doctor said…”

“Put your sneakers on.” (Psalm 37:23)

I trust you, so I dress quickly. I slip on my sneakers. Hmm…my foot doesn’t feel too bad. I think I can do this. (Philippians 4:13)

"Could we drive to the dumpster first?" I ask. "I have a pile of junk to get rid of." (Ephesians 4:31)

You smile and nod, as if that were all part of your plan in the first place.

I drive to the barnyard dumpster and am careful to avert the muddy ruts left by those who have been here before. I would hate to get stuck in this mess. Quickly, I throw out a bag of garbage and a box of things that weren't working. Whew!  It feels good to pitch them.