Being Alone on St. Valentine's Day

"Do everything in love."

~1 Corinthians 16:14

I'll never forget the first time a boy I had a crush on gave twelve-year-old me a St. Valentine card. I was so excited, I couldn't rip it open fast enough. Someone I like actually gave me something. I can't remember what the words said, but when I opened the card to see a photo of a Rugrat barfing all over the paper, the message was clear: This is a prank Valentine card. He didn't like me or want to have anything to do with me except to laugh at me. The poor kid probably just wanted revenge for my beating both him and his brother in arm wrestling (note to self: If you like a guy, don't beat him in arm wrestling). I spent that St. Valentine's Day without a sweetheart. Over the years, that day has only continued to give me grief. In short, I continue to dread St. Valentine's Day. 

This year I took myself out on a date. I dressed in something nice, and took myself to a Paint-and-Sip. The painting was of two trees. Their branches reached toward each other and intertwined in the middle in the shape of a heart. The original intention of the instructor was to have the two trees on separate canvases so two people could paint their respective half of the scene and, effectively, their own half of the heart. Since I was alone, I was obliged to paint both halves on one canvas. As I sipped my mimosa and painted, I realized something. Even though I didn't have a partner, the scene was still complete and my heart was still whole. The proof was right there on the canvas staring back at me. I'm not half a heart desperately looking for the other half. I am a whole heart looking for love. The thing about love, though, is it is not meant to be found. It is meant to be given away. 

So. 

What things can I do in love? 

All things. 

Everything. 

And I can do them with my whole heart.