Day 47: When Regular Romeos Just Won’t Do

Don’t be deceived, my dear brothers and sisters. Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. James 1:16–17

Valentine’s Day tends to be a bust in my life. Well, not a complete bust now, because sweet Missy always makes me a card asking me to be her Valentine. I didn’t used to be sentimental about saving cards, but now that I have a tender-hearted daughter, every single one she gives me goes into a special box that would be one of the things I’d try to tote out with me (along with her, of course, and my Bible) if our log home ever caught on fire!

Anyway, my little girl’s affection is definitely no small thing, but dang, sometimes I wish there was some handsome beau with a card in one hand, a fistful of roses in the other, and a lovesick grin standing outside the door to my heart on that one day in February each year when red hearts seem to proliferate the globe and every Hallmark, Target, Walgreens, and Publix I walk in goads shoppers to buy something for that “special person” in your life.

Now I do have a cadre of older, single girlfriends who’ve rechristened February 14th “Galentine’s Day,” and they always graciously invite me to their estrogen-filled soiree that evening. But alas, normally I turn to other people for comfort: namely, Ben and Jerry, and their chocolate peanut butter concoction of pure goodness.

However, during the first week of February this year I remembered that the onslaught of romantic love cards and tchotchkes and social media memes was right around the corner and I did something more productive. I went out and picked my own boyfriend and decided to memorize a love letter he wrote. Well, he’s actually only a pretend boyfriend, plus he died a really, really long time ago and was happily married, so my ardor is unrequited. Also, it’s a sermon, not a love letter, that I’ve been memorizing. But I’ll be darned if the following words Charles Spurgeon preached well over a century ago didn’t smooth over the Valentine’s Day divot in my heart:

“Remember God is the same, whatever is removed. Your friends may be disaffected, your ministers may be taken away, every thing may change, but God does not. Your brethren may change and cast out your name as vile: but God will love you still. Let your station in life change, and your property be gone; let your whole life be shaken, and you become weak and sickly; let everything flee away—there is one place where change cannot put his finger; there is one name on which mutability can never be written; there is one heart which never can alter; that heart is God’s—that name Love.” —Charles Spurgeon10

Dr. Spurgeon’s sermon is 165 or so years old now yet it continues to resonate deeply in the human heart because while most of us recognize change is inevitable, we still long for a love relationship that is secure enough for us to attach our hope to it without fear it will falter or ultimately fizzle out. We long for a real Romeo—one who will be true-blue, whose love will remain constant no matter what. And contrary to what Valentine’s Cards proclaim, our Creator-Redeemer is the only One who fits that description. His unconditional love for us is the only type that will not vacillate one bit.

So whether a handsome beau special gives you red roses and a box of gourmet chocolates on February 14th or you end up watching a sappy romantic comedy in your sweatpants with a pint of ice cream, know this: when you put your hope in Jesus Christ, YOU became the object of God’s affection, and His perfect, infinite love for you will never, ever fade or fail!

• Is there a day or season that corresponds with the feeling of loneliness for you?
• What are you intentionally doing to prepare your heart beforehand?
• How have you run away from God during this hard season instead of toward Him?