On Why I Don't Need a Valentine

It seems perhaps I was unclear in my original Valentine post about the reason for my negative attitude toward the holiday. I must say that I'm not opposed to celebrating love, romantic or otherwise. The consumerist thrust of the holiday is wearying and doesn't help its case with the Pearces. But the real reason for my disdain, as it was so aptly labeled is...

[just a moment as I struggle atop my soapbox....ah, there we are]...

Oh, I kid. About the struggle, not about the soapbox.

It's just that Valentine's Day, while a nice idea in many regards, ought to be needless and superfluous, oughtn't it? Similar to Mother's Day and Father's Day, which are marvelous opportunities to honor the parents in one's life, Valentine's Day seems to have been created by the greeting card, chocolate, and flower companies as the one day to make up for 364 days of neglect and dis-honor (or at the very least, un-honor).

Perhaps that's too harsh. I know not all of you men are running around treating your womenfolk like chopped liver. But why the need to pamper and treat her on one particular day, and the urgency of worrying that if you don't live up to her romantic expectations you can expect your name to be mud until the next gift-giving occasion?

It is my position that if we were properly loving and honoring our mothers, fathers, and objects of romantic affection, there would be no need to buy a card and 9,000 calories' worth of her favorite decadence (and why is that an expression of love anyway? "Here honey, maybe this year you can just glue this giant heart-shaped box to your--"...but I digress).

Hence my disdain for Valentine's Day. It signifies a lack of personal responsibility for working to maintain a relationship. And it puts a tremendous amount of pressure on romantic partners to top last year, or spend enough money to convey how much you REALLY love her. I disdain Valentine's Day because I see shallow, fragile relationships being celebrated as though they are strong. I see boorish husbands offering the day's goods to insecure wives who are right to wonder how much they are loved. I see selfish spouses monitoring how much they are receiving, with one foot out the door if they just don't feel it anymore. It BREAKS MY HEART. I guess what I'm saying is that the state of our marriages is tragic and shameful.

Don't get huffy, it's a generalization. I know your marriage is fabulous and intimate and oozes rainbows and happiness.

But the divorce rate is troubling and reveals a huge problem. For a nation that puts so much stock in a one-day romance binge, we are really missing the true definition of love.

Men, please love your wives every day. Pick up flowers for no reason on July 22 if you've got a romantic side that you just can't hide. More importantly, though, open her car door (if she'll let you - these days you never know. I think some men rightly avoid this for fear of drawing back a bloody stump), guide her through a crowd, hold her hand, know her struggles, fears, and joys. Pray with her and for her every day you're blessed to share with her. Ask her what she wants from you, what she needs. Give her that! Thank her.

Love her so well that on February 14, if you do bring home roses and pull out her chair at a fancy restaurant, it'll be because it's second nature. Love her so well that on February 14 she'll wake up with a huge smile on her face simply because it's you there next to her. Love her so well that she feels exactly the same on February 14 that she does on July 22 because you two are one.

See how I get all sappy about love? Sentimental holidays are bogus. It's the everyday choices we make that build intimacy and stockpile our love banks full of warm fuzzies. I look at my husband and, unless it's laundry day, I see a man who knows me in every sense of the word, good and bad, my gifts and my baggage, my virtues and my deepest darkest sin, and he loves me. I love my husband first of all because I promised to, and secondly because he demonstrates the husbandry of Christ in my life. He sacrifices for me, lays down his desires and his life, serves me, and provides me with amazing grace and forgiveness whenever I have need of it. I have never been shamed or unforgiven by him, no matter the gravity of my offense. I love my husband because, through my marriage to him, I better understand who I am as part of the bride of Christ.

Seriously, people, that's heady stuff. God has given me so much better than I deserve!

And in case you were wondering, on laundry day the tables are turned and it is he who is in need of amazing grace. Oh, the socks. I thank God for the mutual sanctification that occurs in our household.