If God were to write a Valentine today, What would it look like? What would He say? Would it be candy or something as sweet? A box of dark chocolates? Now that would be neat.
But that doesn’t quite do it. Its not quite his style. No, He’d probably think and ponder a while. He’d keep it simple. And that would be best.
“Come home to me Valentine, and I’ll give you rest.”
My Dearest Valentine,
You were, and are still, my first true love, created for my pleasure. Your parents gave you a name at birth. I have my own name for you. I call you “Beloved”. Do you know? Do you remember? Or have you forgotten?
I called the heavens and the earth into being with my voice, yet I saved you for my hands to create. I am still creating, making you more and more into my image, even as you live and breathe. Can you feel my touch? Have you seen my fingerprints? Your name is carved into the palms of my hand. Nothing can snatch you away. Not even your sin. I knew you would fall and I created you anyway. I already had a plan worked out from the beginning of time, so that I might keep you by my side.
I came down to be with you. To eat, sleep, walk, dance, and touch you. I gave you my time, my love, and my life. Your time, your love, your life and your faith and more precious to me than silver or Gold. Do you weigh the cost? I did.
Did you see the sunshine I sent you today? I wanted to watch it shine off your hair and in your eyes. Did you feel the warmth? Did you hear the songbirds? I wrote that song just for you. Does my music fill your heart? Yours does mine. Oh, how I love to hear you sing. And that breeze? It’s me caressing your face like I did for Elijah. Did you notice me? Do you hear the leaves rustle in the trees? That’s my whisper. Can you hear me?
I can’t wait until you see what I have in store for you on Easter morning! Will you be there? Will you see me? Or will you miss it? Please be still beloved and know that I am God and that you are my first true love. Would only that I could be yours.
So tell me Beloved, will you be my Valentine?
Copywrite: Deana O’Hara, Red Bridges Home 2009