dancing under the starsIn anticipation of Valentine’s Day, I googled “World’s Greatest Lover” expecting to find shirtless movie moguls, pouty-lipped teen idols, or at least some sordid tale of Casanova.

The entire first page was devoted to two pathetic examples—Cheap Trick’s song of the same name and Gene Wilder’s movie.

Really?

I don’t like Valentine’s Day anymore. It’s a slap-in-the-face reminder of my separated state after 20+ years of celebrating it with someone I love.

And the reminders are everywhere: My church just had a timely marriage retreat.

Slap.

My radio station is talking about couples doing a Second First Date event.

Slap.

I walk into any store, gym, or gas station and red hearts dance before my eyes.

Slap.

So, of course, I spent the last few days frantically thinking for some way to spend that dreaded approaching day. It helped that last Monday I blogged about being married to my First Husband (I Now Pronounce You God and Wife).

I remembered that once–an eternity ago–I was a young Christian single, fighting like mad to hold on to a pure mind in a polluted world. Then in my late 20s, I enjoyed two blissful years of courtship, a highly unfashionable practice in these modern times.

But even before my marital beau caught my eye, someone else courted me.

And oh, how he dazzled me. He was talented, and smart, and strong, and creative. He knew my favorite color, my favorite foods, and he said I looked ravishing even when I resembled a drowned rat. He held my hand, wiped my tears, and let me rest my head on his shoulder. He listened when I talked, never interrupting. When he talked, his voice was like rushing water soothing away any pain or melting away any fear.

On his arm I felt like a princess, brilliant and beautiful and perfect just the way I was. When I dressed up, it was for him. When we danced, there was no doubt who was leading. Best of all, he never went home, never slept, never took his eyes off me.

Yeah, Him.

And you know what I realized?

That my dazzling First Love has been there all this time waiting patiently for me to dance with him again, waiting patiently to walk and talk with me, and to tell me I look beautiful.

So this Thursday, I’m going to slip on my prettiest dress, slide on my high heels (cause he’s really tall), slap on a little lipstick, and spend some time with my Valentine—the greatest lover of all-time.

Who are you spending your Valentine’s with?

 

 

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