Remember Love

I walked into the grocery store a few weeks ago and almost walked right back out at the sight that greeted me.

I've never been a fan of Valentine's Day (shocking, coming from a woman). Maybe it's because I never really had a reason to celebrate it before. Maybe because I don't know why we celebrate it. Maybe it's because my tomboy childhood friend taught me that the color pink is an evil gremlin-lord that requires mud-domination. No matter the reason, I almost always forget about Valentine's Day until I'm backhanded by the pink chocolates, stickers, cards, balloons, and....owls?

Seriously...would you want a pink owl planter? The Valentine designers are growing desperate.

Take a moment and think about the men on Valentine's Day. Firstly, pink is not a "man's color". In desperation (partially thanks to Valentine's Day), men have been forced to accept pink into their wardrobe and wear it proudly (or at least fake pride and confidence). Not only that, but look at Valentine's Day commercials--jewelry, flowers, chocolate....this is clearly not a holiday (for lack of a better word) for men. It should be a holiday for both guy and girl, but the girls got a bit greedy somewhere down the line.

Think about it. Do men stress about this holiday?
Yes.
Why? Because they're forced to be creative, to dig through their bank accounts, and to balance multiple expectations on their shoulders. There's pressure and that's not nice.
Does a woman stress about this holiday?
I doubt it (I clearly don't).
Why? Because she's sitting, waiting for the guy to "surprise" her (as if she doesn't know something's coming). If he doesn't, she's disappointed...which leads to strife.

I speak of all this in broad terms. I know there are wonderful girls out there who shower the guys with pink-less, manly gifts. There are guys who don't feel pressured. There are couples who love the celebration (and each other). They ought to teach classes.

But why do we celebrate Valentine's Day? How did it start? Naturally, I leap to the endless electronic archives and dig with my dot-com shovel. Valentine's Day celebrates the martyrdom of three different men with different variations of the name Valentine. They died at different times. They lived different lives. And that's all we know. That is the basis of our knowledge, the cornerstone of the pink gremlin-lord. After that, come only myth and legend. There must have been love in there somewhere. Maybe even the color pink.

Something deep inside me wishes the truth lay within grasp--the real truth. Three men died for their faith. Their faith. That is the only fact we carry and we celebrate it with chocolate and flowers. But do we really? Do we honor these men? Does anyone even think of them on Valentine's Day anymore? Do we see postcards with stories of their deaths?
I would love to know their stories. There is depth there. So much depth. Think of what it means to be a martyr.

"Somebody who suffers persecution and death for refusing to renounce a belief or cause, usually religious."

"One who makes great sacrifices or suffers much in order to further a belief, cause, or principle."

Imagine if you stood on the brink of martyrdom.
You have a choice--renounce your faith and beliefs or die in whatever way your persecutor decides. How do you feel at this moment? Brave? Strong? Terrified? Calm? It's the pinnacle of your life and you can only hope, with one shaky breath, that someone somewhere will understand how important this moment is for you. You want everyone to know why you are going to die--because you have faith. Because you believe it's right. Because you trust in God.
But will anyone ever know? Could they understand the internal struggle and external fear that hold you frozen at this moment? Or will they laugh and draw pink chalk hearts on the sidewalk, practically forgetting your name?

This Valentine's Day, let's spare a sober thought among the many joyful ones and remember, not just these three Valentine martyrs, but martyrs around the world, around our Earth's time-line. Even if we don't know their stories. Think of their tense, quickened heartbeats as they give themselves up for what they trust and love--God, faith, friends.

That is a love we often don't celebrate.

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The State of Your Mustard

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"...if you have faith as a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you." (Matthew 17:20)

This is a verse that nearly every church-raised child hears. Sometimes the Sunday School teacher even brings in props (aka. 2 millimeter mustard seeds) to show the students how very tiny a mustard seed is (aka. how tiny our faith will always be). Then, at some age, we come to the realization that none of us have the faith of an atom nucleus, let alone a mustard seed. I don't know about you, but when I stand outside and demand that the Grand Teton throw itself into the sea, it just growls and grows a little taller...and greyer.


I wondered about the size of my faith when God left a sticky note on my mental chalkboard this morning.

"I have a task for you. Gird up your faith-loins."

What size are my faith-loins? I'm pretty sure I'm teetering between super-duper-extra-small and extremely-super-duper-extra-small. Either way, I get to girding. I'm one sentence in to the unpleasant letter I must write and resort (once more) to prayer. ("Must I do this?" "How do I word it?" "Help!") In an act of either postponement or further knowledge, I flip to the book of Matthew (after looking up the mustard reference) and then pull up Wikipedia.

Did you know that mustard never grows old, mold, mildew, or creates harmful bacteria?
I think that if you believe Jesus is Lord, faith never grows old, mold, or harmful bacteria. It's always with us and can't go bad.

Did you know that mustard can last indefinitely, though it may dry out, lose flavor, or go brown?
I believe that, if we don't exercise our faith, it can dry out and lose its flavor (but still last indefinitely). Don't let your faith go brown.

Did you know that mixing in a small amount of wine or vinegar will revitalize dried mustard?
"For this is My blood of the new covenant which is shed for many for the remission of sins."
When we allow Christ to pour His love and Himself back into us (after shutting Him out), our faith is revitalized.

Who would have thought all this significant mustard really linked us back to Christ? What's the state of your mustard? Brown? Weak? Strong and pungent? If I were filled with mustard, I would pick Grey Poupon. It already has wine...white wine. "...though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow..." How about, "...though your mustard is like tar..." I know I take the "snow" verse out of context, but because of it I have grown more fond of the idea of white wine in my faith-mustard. I'll never look at Grey Poupon the same way again.


Now if only I had a mini mustard seed of faith inside my extremely-super-duper-extra-small faith-loins...