I have never thrown away a Valentine Card.
Ever.
Every heart day card I have received since Kindergarten is in a shiny, silver, cardboard gift box on the shelf of my closet.
[Alright, that is a little bit of an exaggeration...The ones I received in college are in my scrapbooks. But yes, still kept.]
But there they are. Literally there are 13+ years of Valentine Cards sitting in a remarkably small box considering the years which it represents.
I was moving back into my parents’ house, back into my old basement bedroom, moving my clothes back into my closet when I noticed the silver cardboard glistening from the shelf. This whole box struck me as hilarious and odd.
Why in the world would one save 13 years of Valentine Cards? And furthermore, why didn’t this strike me as strange sooner?
“You fly high, Valentine!” ... to: Anika / from: Aaron. I no longer know who Aaron is or what he is doing with his life but I’m assuming from his inclination to write letters backwards, plenty of life has happened since the first grade.
“Valentine, you make the world sparkle!” complete with a fairy. Thank you Vanessa for those gripping sentiments. Did you choose them just for me...or did you arbitrarily rip and sign your V-Day cards? (Not me... I had to sort through the box for just the right message to give to every classmate.)
A CareBear folded card: “A secret message for: Anika from: [blank]” Inside: “You make me smile! (Ssshh! Don’t tell! It’s a secret!)” Who am I going to tell? And even then...some secret! “Hey world I make an anonymous person smile! Broke their trust by telling you that, whoever they are!” You didn’t even sign the card!!
Oh, here is one worth noting. A teddy bear holding a heart that says “love”. On the back? “To Anika, From: Your Secret Admirer”. His name was Billy and he apparently forgot to tell the rest of our class that he was keeping it a secret. I showed up to school late after a doctor’s appointment and my decorated Valentine’s Day bag was tipping over due to the weight of a red carnation with the before stated card attached. “It’s Billy! Billy!” the class proclaimed under their breath during math as Billy sunk further into his chair and my face turned as red as the carnation. Poor kid was informed by his wise older brother who was trying to raise money for his band booster that you HAD to pick a girl to give a flower to on Valentine’s Day. Granted, scammed into it or not, of all the girls in our class, he still picked me. You always remember the first, last, and only time a boy shows interest in you. Gotta love the third grade...
But still...
So what?
Why exactly have I felt it necessary to keep a box of mostly punny and extremely cheesy cards... with ‘nice’ words of endearment, signed haphazardly by some kid and addressed to me because my name was on the list that was sent home by the teacher in my Friday folder?
Sentiments that are hardly true and hardly worthwhile sent by kids who no longer mean anything to me. And I’ve kept them all. And even as I sit laughing about it, I’ve made no effort to throw the box away. Why would I do THAT?
But why do I keep them?
Why have I stored up treasures found in meaningless words cliché-ly placed on a card on the day where that is what you’re supposed to say and do? That day of “love” where mostly we just worship the gods of consumerism, lust, and self-pity. In all actuality, these cards mean nothing to me. They don’t represent friendship or memories. They don’t represent care or meaning. They don’t consist of the real or the true. It’s a box full of hundreds of nothing words. If I were to “count” on those cards it would be like feasting on donuts...trying to make a meal out of empty calories, a quick buzz, and a crash that will make me sick.
And yet, is that not what I do? Maybe not with this box of Valentine Cards...but in general. I feast on kind words, quick fixes, easy doses of affirmation. We store up meaningless praise and invest in worthless activities and get to the end of the day, lying in bed, staring into the dark wondering why our “love tank” is running so close to the red line.
The worst part of all? Too often, that’s not only what we realize is true for us...but it is also what we give each other. I claim to strive to love the world and the people in it. (Least of all MY world and the people in it.) Yet how often is my love consistent of mostly some cheap rip-off-a-square Valentine Cards? I say something rote and hope they know I thought enough to care as I cross a name off my list. Do I even stop to think about who I am giving which line to or do I know that everything in the box said something ‘nice’ and just go with it? Perhaps, at my very best, I’ve been half scammed into showing a little extra affection to someone I think is extra special...they should feel honored, I chose them above all of the rest for something almost real(but I wouldn’t have chosen anyone if my brother didn’t want my dollar...) Do I give REAL love...or do I love like it is Valentine’s Day? With enough little cards to add up to, well, not much of anything even after many years...
When Paul wrote the infamous love chapter...1 Corinthians 13...he was trying to give the people of Corinth a stern talking-to. He wasn’t writing flowery words for an upcoming wedding, he was slapping them over the head saying “You fight, you quarrel, you’re not even trying! At the best you’re passing out some cheap and cheesy Valentine’s Cards and you tell them to store up those nuggets for a rainy day! NO! Now I will show you the most excellent way (1 Cor. 12:31b)... This is how you love; this is what it looks like...”
The Valentine Cards will be sorted for any nuggets of laughter worth preserving and then tossed. And the Valentine Card way of loving? Gonna work to toss that too. Life is too short to feed people on anything less than the love that sustains.
Father God, teach me to love like you do...
