Could we just cancel Valentine’s day this year? I’d like to propose a ban on heart-shaped candies, red roses and stuffed animals the size of a full-grown adult.
Okay, I admit that my heart is aching a bit this February as I think about the celebration of love. I try to ignore the longing in my heart when I see yet another friend with a sparkling engagement ring and remind myself that if God hasn’t answered my prayer for a husband yet, it probably isn’t going to happen (I mean, I live in the middle-of-no-where Asia). I head to the land of pessimistic reality where longing is a bad thing and dreaming is not for me.
There is kindness in the gaze of our heavenly Father for these moments when cynicism and bitterness fight to take over my single soul. There is tenderness in the way He opens my eyes to a love beyond anything I can comprehend, unlike any romance this world has to offer. He pulls me close in the hiddenness of intimacy with Him, speaking my name softly in the moments no one else sees.
I tend to think more like Martha, the older sister who was Jesus’ dear friend but knew how to organize a dinner and keep busy. I’m not like Mary, yet this is where He is drawing me. Mary sat at Jesus’ feet. There was no rush in her encounters with Jesus, not like when I speed read through a passage and then ask for my marching orders for the day from my Heavenly Boss. I wonder what it was like to own something so precious as the oil that she poured out, to willingly lavish it as a symbol of her love. My love is not like Mary’s, but Jesus praised her.
So maybe when I’m done throwing a pity party, I can think past the love that is missing to the love I can give. Mary knew a love that spilled over just as Jesus’ love for her poured in to all the cracks and dry corners of her heart. He wants the very same for me, for us. The longing and dreams in my heart can be molded and shaped by Him and that precious gift can be my offering at His feet, my offering to the world.