When I was in 5th grade, Beth gave me a packet of Catholic magazines that she had when she was a teenager. I responded oh-so-enthusiastically by shoving them in my closet and forgetting about them. Though I believed in God, I had rarely applied that belief to my daily tasks.
Like accomplishments, boys only filled me temporarily. After another meaningless fling with a younger boy ended, I ended up breaking down in front of a sorority sister I barely knew. I told her everything: the boys, the partying, my poor judgment as well as the impossible mountain of insecurity that I could never fully conquer.
“Spirit, lead me where my trust is without borders”?
That border for me starts wherever people are left out, ostracized, lonely, and vulnerable. The people who most need love are not always the ones with the flashing neon signs that say “OPPORTUNITY TO LOVE GOD HERE!!!” Oftentimes, it’s the quiet orphan on the fringe of the crowd, waiting to be recognized and loved for the child of Christ that he or she is.
As I got older, I think it was around 6th grade, when I started really anticipating Valentine’s Day. Why? Maybe because it was the first time I had a huge crush on a guy. I still remember the feeling, the butterflies in my stomach when I saw him… Of course this boy didn’t know I existed… (surprise, surprise). But I would close my eyes and imagine that he was my valentine and I was his. Gross I know, right? Anyway, needless to say I didn’t receive any Valentine’s that year from any boys, except the ones from my daddy and little brothers.
Every year I found myself somewhat disappointed in my Valentine’s Day. I’ve never had a boyfriend or any guy in a position to be my Valentine. But I guess I always thought well maybe this Valentine’s Day will be different. Maybe i’ll have a secret admirer, or a boyfriend (yeah right), etc…