Flowers, Chocolates and Tears

On Valentine's Day, we love to celebrate love. 

We love to celebrate with flowers.

I celebrated with flowers.

My husband of almost 25 years

makes sure they're a part of our yearly tradition.

Last year I had the energy to write a truly romantic post.

We love to celebrate with special treats.

I celebrated with special treats. 

 My daughter, Gracie, baked and decorated these

and successfully kept them hidden until the holiday.

My husband already had purchased two heart-shaped

boxes full of chocolates we previously feasted on together.

We love to celebrate with loving, sentimental cards.

I celebrated with cards.

 Beka was the Mail Lady, delivering cards with great animation.

We celebrated with special drinks,

toasting our family's love and devotion with sparkling apple cider.

But this year, my heart wasn't in it.

My heart is broken and shattered,

but I smiled and kept going

because that's what Christians do.

We keep going.

We keep breathing.

We keep praying.

The Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words,

when our only prayers are desperate cries for the Lord's help.

I can't share the details of our grief,

it involves someone we love deeply,

so we ask you to help bear our burden

and pray

pray

pray

pray

and then,

pray some more.

When going through cancer with my dear friend Kari,

now in my own struggle with incurable thyroid cancer -

I learned a valuable lesson.

You keep going on with life.

You act as normal as possible,

for the kids,

for yourself,

 to keep you busy so you don't despair beyond hope.

We shared the news  with the kids,

we prayed together, we cried together.

And, we still celebrated Valentine's Day.

 I was reminded of how painful holidays can be.

The arrows in those cheery red hearts

 penetrated my heart and soul. 

Some pain cannot be covered with chocolates and flowers. 

Sorrow can be so  great we can hardly partake in the joys around.

Yes, even when we are happily married and love our spouse. 

Yes, even when our homes are filled with children we love and adore.

My husband, my earthly rock and fortress,

even defined our sorrow as "too much to bear,"

even though we both know the Lord is in control.

In the midst of sorrows like sea billows,

I know it is well with our souls.

I know nothing can pluck us from His hand,

and nothing can separate us from His love.

This Valentine's Day we celebrated

love.

Romans 5:5 , "Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us."

Romans 8:39, "nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

1 John 4:9, "In this the love of God was manifested toward us, that God has sent His only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through Him."

Jude 1:21, "Keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life."

With tears and prayers,

we celebrated by

 desperately depending on

the enduring

abiding

eternal

love of our Heavenly Father.

Truly Romantic

We celebrated Valentine's Day in our usual way, with the family gathered in the living room with the youngest child, Rebekah, passing out the messages of love from our special box.

In the early years, we made the traditional Valentine's box embellished with  hearts, glitter and stickers by the kids. About five years ago, I went for the idea of creating a lifetime family tradition - having a box we used year after year.  I decorate for this holiday and leave all the adorable hearts up for two more weeks, when we celebrate our wedding anniversary.

My husband fulfilled all my romantic ideals by buying flowers for me on Friday, so I  could enjoy them all weekend.

                                

But, on Valentine's Day, it wasn't that flowers that proved his love for me.  They were a beautiful reminder, and I was very appreciative.  Their sight and smell speak to me each time I walk by them.  I realized, though, that even if he hadn't purchased me the traditional dozen red long-stemmed roses, I would have still felt his powerful love for me.

I have learned to see his love in a million different ways throughout the week.

He has cooked for me almost every evening of my low-iodine diet.

He send me love messages during the day by email or by IM.

He senses my moods and acts accordingly to what I need - hugs, alone time, listening or talking.

He reads my blogs and says often, "This is the best one yet!"

He fathers the kids in a way that makes me love him more.

He reads his Bible so he can lead us in the paths of righteousness.

He prays for me.

He looks at me and I just know I am cherished.

The roses are a beautiful affirmation of what he daily proves, not a guilty purchase to make up for a day, a week, a month or a year of bad behavior.  They are never a guilt offering, they are a love offering.

But, it was this present that made me feel the most loved.

                                               

When one of crazy little monkeys had a sudden onslought of the stomach flu, and threw up all the way to the bathroom and all over the bathroom, he wiped it up.

Never in my wildest imagination, as a single woman longing for that Prince to sweep me off my feet, did I imagine wiping up vomit would be a qualitication for the Perfect Man.  My hubby even has held the bedpan for me as I puked my way through several hospital visits for cancer.

Single women - take note.  Can you imagine the guy you have your eye on wiping up vomit?  Hmmmm....maybe you should keep looking.

There is no wistful daisy-petal-pulling in my world - I only have to use one line from the poem.

He loves me.
He loves me.
He loves me.
He loves me.

And I love him, too.

Thank you for a special Valentine's weekend, honey!

In case you were wondering how I got that picture of the roses.

Guess I can never yell at the kids for standing on the dining room table again.

So, I'm starting a new week  focusing on the love my husband and I have for each other in the Lord.

Ecclesiastes 4:12, "Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken."

That's all I need to  pull me through another Monday and another week, ready and willing to accept whatever the week brings - a cord of three.

(Pop over to visit Nan on Making Your Home Sing Monday to see what other moms are doing to start the week off right.)