This morning, John and I exchanged romantic gifts, and we look forward to a romantic evening celebrating Valentine's Day. We look back to Valentine's Day 2012, when cancer had threatened to bring our marriage to an end, and therefore we treasure our marriage all the more. We can't conceal our joy at being husband and wife, nor should we! The Lord has given us a tremendous blessing that each of us, because we've had severe physical disabilities since childhood, thought He might withhold from us.
Many Christians, sadly, don't have the blessing of marriage. In our joy, John and I remember their pain, praying that the Holy Spirit will comfort them in their loneliness and that He might bring them spouses. Having married late in life (less than two weeks before John turned 53 and a month before I turned 49), neither of us has forgotten how torturous Valentine's Day can be for singles.
God calls married people to love our unmarried brothers and sisters in Christ by sharing their sorrow, just as He calls them to share our joy (Romans 12:15). Our enjoyment of this holiday must avoid selfishly flaunting our marriages to the point that we show insensitivity to their loneliness.
For a time when I struggled with bitterness over being unmarried, I (loudly) refused to attend weddings because a man I'd wanted didn't return my feelings. I hardened my heart to the idea that, in coddling my feelings of rejection. I forced these couples to experience false guilt over the blessing God had given them. I repented of my selfishness when a close friend told me that, while she would understand if I chose not to attend her wedding, she very much wanted me there to rejoice with her.
Now that I'm married, I don't want to behave selfishly toward those who feel that extra twinge of grief tonight. While I'll certainly enjoy my evening with John, I'd like to pray for my dear friends who don't have anyone to call their Valentine. For singles, February 14 is a day to weep. As my heart rejoices in my husband, may it also break for those who spend tonight without someone special. May I love them enough to be sensitive to them.