High school was kind of a weird season of life for me.
I came from a teeny-tiny town (we are talking population 323, folks) and so our high school reflected our population. I graduated with a whopping 18 people in my class.
For the most part, I liked high school. I was involved in all things academic, a good student, did the leadership thing, and avoided anything related to sports since flying objects were mysteriously attracted to my face. (Seriously. I once split my lip open playing ping-pong. #TrueStory)
In general, I didn’t mind high school. Except for that one day a year.
I always knew it was coming. Once a year, I woke with a pit in my stomach coupled with a minuscule bulb of hope in my heart.
Maybe this would be my year. The day I had always dreamed about, fantasized, hoped for.
See, in our tiny school, we had the typical “office” where the school secretary and principal resided. The office has huge glass windows on both sides, right at the hallway intersection, probably so they could keep their eyes peeled for any inappropriate shenanigans.
Due to the strategic positioning of the office, a medium-sized desk on the other side of the window was always within eyesight no matter which hallway direction we traveled.
This desk was non-threatening most of the school year… Except for the stomach-pit-heart-hope day.
Valentine’s Day.
It was the day where all of the on-again-off-again-wait-til-we-graduate-and-we-will-live-happily-ever-after high school dating couples declared their love for one another.
That table was the gathering place for flower deliveries, teddy bears, balloons and chocolate.
Fortunately/Unfortunately for me, I didn’t date in high school. Oh, don’t get me wrong– I crushed on plenty of the boys– but most of them were more like best buddies and I was like their sister.
So needless to say, that table never held any surprises for me.
When the bell rang for dismissal at 3:10 in the afternoon, all hope in my heart was snuffed out.
No secret admirer. No flowers to flaunt. No-happily-ever-after-at-least-in-that-moment for me.
I don’t write this post for sympathy. Really I don’t. I share this story because I am grateful.
Wait… Grateful? Want to know WHY I am grateful (And how to deal when that loving feeling in our marriage is MIA? Keep reading over at Wives of Faith. )
How do you keep things in perspective when life is working against your loving feelings? Speaking of your feelings… How do YOU feel about Valentine’s Day? Join the conversation and leave a comment.
A bit of encouragement in case you are struggling with that loving feeling today…
Think about it: Jesus died on the cross for us. Just as the song by Abandon says, “It wasn’t nails that held Him to the Cross… It was love.”
That is all the loving feeling I need.
Feeling the Love,
“With your very own hands you formed me; now breathe your wisdom over me so I can understand you. When they see me waiting, expecting your Word, those who fear you will take heart and be glad. I can see now, God, that your decisions are right; your testing has taught me what’s true and right. Oh,love me—and right now!—hold me tight! just the way you promised.” ~Psalm 119:73-75
Linking up today with Kelly, Laura at Playdates with God, Joan’s Beauty in His Grip, Jen over at Soli Deo Gloria Sisterhood, and Hazel via Tell Me a Story. Be sure to join our #EverydayJesus link-up community right here at 7 Days Time every Thursday!
