Valentine’s Day Heart Attack

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Woke this morning with a strange little puppy of a feeling wiggling around my single bed. Odd little fellow—who are you exactly?

Ah yes. That’s Joy.

Our little house is bumping over with the stuff. Cookies baked and spread with Royal Frosting. Construction paper snipped, glue sticks worn to a nub.  The front porch is covered in red construction paper hearts and festooned with crepe paper, a sneaky little present from one of the kid-lings.

Friends started checking in days ago, worried I’d feel lonely on this day dedicated to all things Red and Romantic. That is not the case.

I feel loved. Blessed. Full and oddly satisfied.

No one’s stomping through my house expecting payment in equal exchange for the amount spent on flowers. No twenty-four hour truce sure to end at the stroke of midnight. No horrid gifts chosen to embarrass, humiliate or punish. Thirty years of Valentine’s Days, thirty awkward, uncomfortable stories.

But none today. Today, I’m playing with the puppy.

Today, I’ll play lovesongs in the kitchen and sing out loud. I’ll eat sugar cookies for breakfast and pretend I don’t notice when the youngsters do the same. Later I’ll take a walk and spend a little extra time thanking my Father above for this day, stuck right in the middle of winter to remind me of all His big-hearted love.

Today is a very good day indeed.

Wishing you and yours the same.

 

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