“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.
