A throbbing headache pulsed through my brain as I sleepily pulled on clothes. It was Saturday morning and my class started at 8:30 am—and it wasn’t scheduled to end until 5 pm.
I desperately wanted to go back to bed, but missing even a few hours of this class would cost losing valuable information that I needed to know. Then I remembered:
Today is Valentine’s Day.
I looked down at my navy blue shirt and blue jeans. One of these has to go. I was determined not to wear the funeral garb of a depressed single on the national pink and red day of romance.
Since I don’t own a pair of pink or red pants, I changed into a red sweatshirt that had light blue heart designs on the sleeves—even if it is the same thing I wore last Valentine’s Day.
My headache was bordering migraine status and I was feeling sick and dizzy when I finally pushed open the door of Bethany Hall.
The mystic silence that has accompanied snowfalls since the beginning of time met me as I entered a fairyland of big drifting white snowflakes—and this is not even the magical land of Narnia. Everything was covered in a delicate layer of snow, and a sense of delight swept over me.
I am aware that the word “snow” may create in my readers a mix of emotions from fear of its evil cousin, Ice, to the grumpiness that follows disappointed wishes for the warmth and sunshine of spring. But for about two years now, snow continually points me to its Creator. It doesn’t matter what time of year or season it should be, snowfalls will always help me catch a glimpse of God’s mysterious and unfathomable love for me.
I think I even smiled as I started down the sidewalk. Just because I don’t have a boyfriend doesn’t mean I’m not loved.
I had walked past a little white candy sweetheart sitting forlornly on the wet cement when my curiosity—and perhaps my sentimental girl nature—got the best of me.
I walked back and stooped down half expecting a corny message like “Get Lost” or “Got Love?” to be written on its surface. But wait, the pink words were partially washed off but I could just make out—
“Be Mine.”
Were those tears that stung my eyes or just the cold wind?
He didn’t have to do it.
An unexpected snowfall points me to an outer-worldly God Who exists outside of time and has no need for my love—but offers His unconditionally.
Someone’s forgotten candy heart whispers a worldly message that symbolizes love, and turns it into a sweet reminder that God delights to be a part of my every day.
Both embraced me with the warmth of real God-love.
Love that reaches through space and time.
Love that can touch me no matter what time of day or season.
Love unshakable and love unchangeable.
Love that holds the promise of eternity with Christ.
On the days when it is so easy to think of what or who I don’t have, do I remember Who and what I do have?
Yes, my head still throbbed and I still had a long day of class ahead of me, but is He enough?
Or is He just a forgotten and unappreciated part of my daily life?
Only His touch can make the dreary and the forgotten truly beautiful. Only His finger can leave sweet messages on the sidewalks of life.
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