February–the love month.

Writing is a funny thing.  When I want to write, I find myself speechless; when I need to be doing other things, I find myself bursting at the seams with words that must go onto paper.  Today is one of those awkward times when I both want to write and need to be doing other things, but I find myself struggling to begin speaking on anything of consequence, or anything inconsequential.

Even the weather is uninspiring, though beautiful.  It’s too cold to sit outside, but too pretty to remain indoors.  I’ve landed with my back to an open window, providing a stiff breeze and sunshine at once on the back of my neck.

Such is February: a month of almost’s, and nearly there’s, and infuriatingly so-close-but-yet-so-far moments.
This isn’t even in reference to Valentine’s Day, which passed without much hullabaloo one way or another this time around.  I baked for my class, shared the leftovers with Warnell boys, and spent the remainder of the evening with the Valentines God has recently blessed with me–my LOL girls.  We watched a portion of One Night with the King, one of the most beautiful stories of a man and a woman–except for maybe Ruth and Boaz, or the Lover and Beloved of Song of Solomon–that has ever been written.

In retrospect, I take it back, Valentine’s Day was a wonderful reminder of the greatest Valentine of all, my Lord and Savior.  Stereotypical, yes, but I’m holding to it, not backing down.  His love has been proved to me over and over without a shadow of a doubt, that I don’t need a red-and-pink-bedecked card or a bouquet of freezer-scented roses to be assured that my God loves me.  The brush of the wind against my cheek, the hug of a friend, the sun-kissed mornings, the sweet wake-up text of a family member, the stolen moments in the Word, the open doors for a heart’s desire: these things leave me breathless with the romance that is from my Lord.  Even now, with the month of almost’s almost over, I can look at my roommate and her boyfriend, sitting on our couch, also relishing in the sun-kissed day of February 25th, and see the love and grace of God emanating from them.  They don’t know I write about them, but that is neither here nor there.  God’s love is here, however, and that’s what matters.

How great is the love He has for us, that we might bask–knowingly or unknowingly–in the glories of his creation at all times, in all situations, with all attitudes!  How endless is the love that served as the impetus for the creation of this beautiful Earth, these beautiful people!  How much He lavishes on us that we do not deserve, and do not notice!  Open my eyes to the depths of your love, your provision!  Show me, “until my eyes get tired,” to borrow a phrase from needtobreathe.  My heart is already flooded with love of You and from You, but, Lord, fill it to overflowing!  May this February not be a month of almost’s, but a month of too much’s: too much joy, too much growth, too much grace, too much love to encompass in words so frail-ly scribbled–or typed–by these hands.

Maybe I spoke too soon, maybe there was inspiration in today.  Yes, I know there was, otherwise this would have ended somewhere in the third paragraph–a dismally short, and rather empty, post.  Instead, You never cease to gently remind me that there is always inspiration, there is always something worth spending words on, there is always a reason to rejoice.  Always.  That reason is you.

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