There are certain times throughout our lives, our years and our days that make us believe that we need something. When we graduate from high school, we think we need to know what our careers will be. When Christmas songs arrive on the radio, we think we need to feel the joy that they assure us comes with the season. And when the bells chime that the cafeteria is open, we are positive that our stomachs will die unless they are fed. It doesn’t matter if we know what we want to do, we feel joyful or we are actually hungry, we need because we are told it is the time for needing.
Happy Valentine’s Day.
All cards on the table, I have always had a special place in my heart for Valentine’s Day (pun only partially intended). February 14th has been my mom’s favorite day of the year since long before my father or I were ever in the picture, and my childhood memories are full of all the little traditions she made for me. Delectable tea parties. Red and pink decorations. Cut-out heart-shaped notes reminding me that I was loved. There will never be a time when I think of Valentine’s Day without remembering all the beautiful moments like lights that shine around it.
So why is there a ‘but’ coming?
As I’ve grown into a young adult, I have watched Valentine’s Day grow and morph alongside me. No longer is it just a special day where little girls wear a shocking amount of pink and write sweet notes to each other while sipping tea cups of hot chocolate. No. That would be childish. Instead, it is a day for young men and young women – whether they truly love one another or not – to pretend that they do long enough to post on social media. It is a time when the people who are alone are left wanting, and the people who are not alone often feel as disappointed as the ones who are. It is a day for needing love.
I’m not about to sit at my keyboard in the dark of my dorm room and try to convince a campus full of young people that they are wrong for wanting love. I want love too (just ask my roommate). I want the thing my parents have when a TV show ends and leaves them snuggled on the couch during the credits. I want the thing that hovers in the air of a room where two people are so comfortable in each other’s presence that all they need to do to feel seen is sit in silence. I want the teasing of the quirks only we know. I want the hand on my back when it aches. I want the face in the crowd that is searching for mine. I want it.
But do I need it by tomorrow?
I have been thinking a lot recently about God’s timing. Maybe it is cliché to start thinking about that during the second half of one’s Junior year, but even clichés have a reason. I want a husband with all of my heart. I want a person that I can walk through life with and never say goodbye to. But I don’t want to be in such a rush that I try to force myself or someone I care about into a role that is not who we are meant to be. When my daughter asks me about my love story someday, I don’t want to tell her about how I strong-armed myself into a relationship that left me feeling incomplete.
Instead, I want to tell her about love’s beautiful surprise.
There is nothing wrong with being active in finding love, but that process isn’t a moment; it is a journey. It involves knowing people, loving them for who they are without expecting anything in return, and leaving ourselves open to the possibility of something beautiful growing from it. It is something to be taken off guard by.
It is something lovelier than the necessity of Valentine’s Day.
