Start . . .
he didn’t expect a Valentine’s card.
She didn’t buy one either. Why? It all seemed hopeless. What words would make sense when it’s all about love and mushiness. There was no mushiness. Only silence, small talk, and big, hurtful words.
But small kids have big hopes. “What are you getting mommy, daddy? Are you getting flowers? Mommy likes chocolate. What card are you getting mommy?” The questions did not stop. “When are we going to the store Daddy? Can we help? ”
How does a man pick out a card for his wife when his heart his hurting too and it’s no small thing that life and marriage can be confusing. How does he pick out a card with all the other men standing at card stand. Do any ache as he? Do any wish this day did not exist? How does he pick one out with his small kids looking up at him with big anticipation?
A whispered small prayer to find the perfect one, and he picks up the card. Front cover reads, “For my wife“. Inside reads, “I love you. Happy Valentine’s Day.” Simple, small, perfect. And the kids are happy. What about his wife? He finds a simple red rose and her favorite candy bar. It’s all small. But, small sometimes brings big healing too.
He wakes her up Valentine’s morning. She may have wanted to sleep the day away . . . pretend too, it didn’t exist. He gives her the rose and encourages her to get up and see the kids who have their own homemade Valentine cards. She shrugs off the rose. He had to get her something. They hug their mommy, give her kisses and mommy’s big praises over their cards melts their small, growing yet fragile hearts.
And he gives her the card. She reads the simple, small, easy-to-read words, and begins to sob. Small hope.
Didn’t Jesus say, ” . . . if you had faith even as small as a mustard seed, you could say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it would move. Nothing would be impossible.”
Small faith. Small beginnings.
. . . Finish
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