A Red-letter Day
As a single woman, I have seen nearly four decades of a red-letter day in February. Valentine’s Day twists a mixture of varied experiences for a single woman. This day has produced awkward moments and blessed moments, painful moments and sweet moments. I have been celebrated. Flowers have appeared at my door. Love notes and cards have been slipped onto my desk. On several occasions I have been graciously invited to attend a couples’ banquet. Imagine! And then, there have been some very silent Valentine Days.
February 14 is one day out of the year that invites romantic overtures. Women imagine the special candlelight dinner for two, the soft background music, and the whispered endearments. We hunger for love. We were made to love, and we were created for love. We quickly can assume love is mysteriously ignited into full flame on this special day. We elevate February 14 into romantic experiences and expressions only. We forget that the journey of two is a commitment to lay down one’s life selflessly for the other. I applaud couples who take this day to celebrate that kind of a commitment to each other.
In the flashy glitz and hoopla of commercialized Valentine’s Day, we single women tend to forget it only holds illusions. Sometimes as single women, we need the reminder that love is not found in dinners, music and endearments although these are beautiful love expressions. Love is a Person. Love hopes. Love trusts. Love endures. Love covers a multitude of sins. Love is the greatest. No February 14 can encompass the mystery of love as does a love which is tested in the warp and woof of life.
I think of my Aunt Kate who knows something about committed love. She and her husband were quite modest in their display of affection, but rarely was one seen without the other. A few months ago, she buried her husband of nearly sixty-five years. As my ninety-two year old Aunt leaned over the casket one last time, the sob of grief was heart-wrenching. Here was a woman who worked hard alongside her farmer husband many days. She birthed seven of his children. She raised her family with limited modern conveniences. She became who he was, and he became who she was. Death ripped apart their oneness, but it could not tear their love.
Many of us single ladies secretly wish for such a love to knock at our door on this red-letter day. In the swirling mass of lacy pink and red hearts, we single women stand on the sidelines, daisies in hand. In the figment of our imagination we hope to produce the miracle of love by whispering, “He loves me, He loves me not. He loves me. . .” Suddenly the roses and chocolate comes for one. She squeals with delight. Eyes shining and glory dancing, she ecstatically tells her friend, “ It’s happened! He is asked! I never dreamed it could be so sweet.” She drops her daisy and walks off without a backward glance. The rest of her comrades hold their wilted daisies and wonder how they got missed.
Daisies and chocolate hold illusions, but the Rose of Sharon is a reality. The Rose of Sharon never misses one of His single daughters standing on the sidelines. Watch Him as He leans closely to them and whispers something. You wonder what it is he is whispering. I have an inkling just what it might be. Check out Zephaniah 3:17.
P.S. Oh, in case you forgot, the Rose of Sharon is also the Creator of chocolate covered strawberries. Buy some. Share some. Eat some. Savor each bite with gratefulness for His goodness toward you on this special red-letter day.
He will take great delight in you,
he will quiet you with his love,
he will rejoice over you with singing.
Zephaniah 3:17b NIV