St. Valentine’s Day is a mere week away. The history of this holiday is debated a bit, but it all boils down to St. Valentine, who was martyred for love. One legend speaks that he wrote the very first valentine to his jailer’s daughter and signed it, “From your Valentine.”
Some of us have trouble accepting love. Perhaps we self-deprecate, believing we’re not good enough to love. Maybe we listen to the past too much, believing that the friendship that ended because the other found a cooler friend or because she was only nice to you because it was the “Christian thing to do.” Maybe our father beat us or our mother verbally degraded us on a regular basis. Or maybe there was just never anyone there to give us hope of love.
I contend that Jesus was our first Valentine. He left his heavenly place of honor, lived inside this painful skin we all know and hate so well, was betrayed and hated on by the most evil and powerful of people on Earth, was murdered a most gruesome death in order that we can be forgiven for our sinful lives, then came back to life. He did all of this to prove to us that He loves us. Furthermore, over 2000 years later, He still forgives us every time we ask. Every time we come to Him with pain, sorrow, or weakness, He holds us close and sets comfort in motion.
My favorite:
He reminds us that He loves us. When others fail us–when they lie to, cheat on, steal from, forsake, abuse, and hate us–Jesus doesn’t. I habitually forget this and habitually seek to have my fill of love from other people. My fiance, my family, my friends, …none of them love me the way Jesus does. None of them can love me perfectly because they, too, are sinners like me. I’m loved by Him, even when others have irritated, fallen short on, or all-out failed me. He’s the constant. He’s been there from the beginning–Alpha–and will be there at the end–Omega.