hearts and chocolates and cupids, oh my!

To the elementary school teacher, the only thing separating Valentine's Day from Halloween are the costumes. Granted, given a choice between Halloween and Valentine's Day, the cursed heart-filled day wins hands down, but they do have a common denominator: sugar!

As I finished the oh-so-demanding five minute chore of scribbling "To Bobby, From Miss L." on twenty-five insipid, bland and largely meaningless children's Valentine's cards, it brought back memories of my own elementary Valentine's years. I remember spending a whole lot of time and energy finding the exact, perfect (insipid, bland and meaningless) card for each classmate. You had to make sure that no one that you didn't like might read your (insipid, bland and meaningless) card and think maybe you were in love with them. And you also had to make sure that the guy you actually did like would be able to read between the lines of your (insipid, bland and meaningless) card and realize that he was totally meant to be with you.

I'm sure some of my little girls will go home tonight and do much the same thing that I did. And nothing I could tell them would make a difference. If I thought it would make a difference, I would tell them, "Look, I've spent the last seven years working with fifth grade boys, and they don't care one bit what your card says. To them, the value of your card can be summed up in one question: 'Is there candy?' So just sign your name and move on to the next one. Spend time writing to your best girlfriends; tell them how great they are, cause they'll actually read it and appreciate it. Fifth grade boys just don't." But I suppose, in our present culture, that isn't really the focus of Valentine's day; instead of being about anyone in our lives whom we love and enjoy, it has to be about the person we're in love with.

As one who has always been single on Valentine's day, I often vow, after another sad, lonely Valentine's Day that I won't let that happen again. I decide not to focus on the diamond commercials, the plethora of flower arrangements that show up in my coworkers' rooms, or even my own single state and focus instead on the great friendships God's given me. Some years, I actually pull it off; I write out meaningful cards for longtime friends, or bake cookies for friends in town who mean a great deal to me. But more often than not, I spend it on the couch with a bowl of ice cream, tearing up during the diamond commercials and wondering if my turn will ever come.
And I wish, at this point in my ramblings, that I had something deep and spiritually meaningful to say, but the truth is, I don't; it's all been said. "Focus on _______ (God, friends, other singles, etc.) instead of your love life or lack thereof." Blame it on our culture, where you can still smell the pine scented candles of Christmas while the displays of heart shaped candies and chocolates are going up, but more often than not, this holiday only serves to remind me of what I don't have, rather than what I do have. So, fellow singles, let's pray for each other; and you marrieds out there, enjoy what God's given you and then when you get a moment, pray for those of us who are still looking and waiting.