Be Mine . . .

2/13/2021

My Valentine pre-Valentine's. So grateful for the hearts in my life. I am loved; my cup runneth over.

Valentine’s Day incites a myriad of emotions:

    Elation with romantic love
       Bitterness at contentious relations
           Grief over losing a valentine
Frustration that demonstration does not meet expectation

Feelings stir on this day. I’ve listened to other’s hearts on the matter and I have experienced my own.

Expressing my adoration for my Valentine, I've laid a red blanket on the living room floor, surrounded it with candles, graced it with rose petals and set it with a picnic dinner. My Valentine doted on me as well by wining and dining and spoiling and loving. Conversely, I have wept over my broken heart. During a single season, friends and I celebrated our independence with candle lit dinner, chocolate cake, dancing to raucous music and laughing into the wee hours of the night.

Tomorrow is the day placed on the calendar to remind us - to share our hearts. Stores are shelved with candy hearts and paper hearts and confection hearts. But the heart most critical to offer, is the heart that is beating within. Whatever situation the day finds us, let’s celebrate Valentine’s by giving our hearts freely.

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As a young adult, I believed there to be a point of arrival; a place where internal struggles with fear or anger or confusion give way to assurance and appropriate displays of passion and clarity of thought and direction. Where striving with relationships transform into understanding and acceptance and the propensity to self-protect shifts to trust and confident vulnerability. However, to my dismay, I was startled to learn, through a friend in her 80s, my perception was most definitely a misconception.

My dear friend humbly confessed to me that she’d had a spat with her daughter, a few days prior to our visit, where she had to go back and apologize for words she’d spoken in anger. I’d only ever known my friend to be a soft spoken, humble, gentle, thoughtful, kind, considerate, caring and definitely a go-the-extra-mile kind of individual. My friend laughed at my wide-eyed disbelief that she were capable of anything but the aforesaid attributes. She gently assured me she too is a work in progress and in order for her to continue to grow, even in her 80s, apologies were a necessary part of her maturing.

At the time, I felt overwhelmed at hearing her confession as my own growth seemed so slow, from my perspective, in developing. I have since found her admission a comfort. I’ve learned that growth is indeed a life-long process and occasionally there is a bit of pain associated in the progression. There is pain at humbling enough to apologize, pain in drawing healthy boundaries that may meet with resistance and on the list of painful growth promoting processes proceed. But, pain is merely an indication that maturity is finding its way into my character and my habits and my thought processes. Pain bears the potential to remind me that my life story is a gloriously, messy one similar to those of my fellow growth promoting family members, friends and associates. And . . . pain too, reminds me that I am very much alive. Growing pains indicate I am still in the race working toward a strong finish.

We’re never too old to grow our character, change our habits or renew our thought processes - in spite of pain, or maybe, because of pain.

Guffaw Thru Life

It's such fun jumping on beds . . . and couches too and eating pie from the center before serving it to others. I love laughing and I appreciate people who make me.

Life is amazing with its possibilities. And, I am blessed by the wonderful people in my life and the liberty I have to pursue what brings me joy. In spite of life's griefs, there is peace and joy and love enough to fill all the spaces.

Zephaniah 3:17
"The Lord your God is in your midst, a Warrior who gives victory; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will renew you in His love, He will exult over you with songs of deliverance."

Be Mine . . .

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