“Do you want to see the Valentine your mother made for me?” He smiles and slides it across the table.
The drawing grabs my attention first — my parents gazing at each other, ageless on the page — and I’m captivated. It’s a simple sketch, but it makes me think. Of what was and what is. And of what will be.
Then I read, each word increasing my delight.
It’s sweet and flirty, like a junior high girl might send to her crush, and the look she’s drawn on her own face captures something real. All my life it was there, this hint of wild — now subdued by a relentless fog.
Her pencil has found it again.
“I misspelled happiest,” she observes with slight annoyance, folding her hands, and turning her head to stare out the window.
But I’m in love with everything about this card. How she used his full name. The exclamation marks. The row of hearts in the middle, and then that one whimsical heart at the end. And I can’t stop staring at the picture.
Self-image is a fascinating thing — the way we see ourselves when there’s no mirror. The way we appear to ourselves in dreams. And I think most of us, when we speculate about such things, like to imagine we’ll one day stroll streets of gold in an eternal version of our prime. Air-brushed. With abs of steel.
No matter how healthy our lifestyle, time takes its toll on us all. This body sags and aches, and this once-sharp mind dims, but the day is coming when Life will conquer. Vigorous, triumphant, playful Life will break these mortal bonds, and what will we be then? That’s a glorious mystery.
What is sown is perishable; what is raised is imperishable. It is sown in dishonor; it is raised in glory. It is sown in weakness; it is raised in power.
. . . when the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: “Death is swallowed up in victory.”
And why this swallowing up? Because our Valentine said, “Yes!” to His Father and purchased a bride with His blood. For the joy set before Him He endured the cross and defeated Death forever, and one day we will gaze into His eyes, ageless, whole, wildly in love with our Redeemer King, and what will we be then?
No mystery there. We’ll be the happyest girl in the world.
Giving thanks in community for (#411 – 424)
the word behind saying, “this is the way”
talk around the table
comfort in sorrow
grace to embrace the “no”
Theo sipping chocolate
hearts here opening to Jacob
above and beyond