"Comparison is the thief of joy," a quote attributed to Theodore Roosevelt, covers a lot of space. Whether applied to physical shape, home, lifestyle, marriage, children, job, vacation plans or distance traveled in a faith walk, people of all ages, races and social status compare themselves to their fellow men and commence lining it all up in specific and exacting order, then measuring ... comparing. The tools each person uses for measuring differ, but all share something: the stressful feeling stemming from our inability to measure up.
The human race seems compelled to compare everything.
Enter Valentine's Day.
My husband and I will exchange cards. Always do. We may each have a gift tucked away fro the other, but not always. We "don't celebrate" Valentine's Day ... officially ... kind of ... in a way. We don't ever miss the card exchange.
Confusing, isn't it?
It has to do with not wanting to disappoint each other, I think. A little dose of loving words (shared by a few thousand other couples) never hurts, and the gesture alone feels right. We set out to card shop with the nature of our relationship in mind. We choose a card with love in our hearts, not with pressure to perform in our brains. Big difference!
As always, we will enjoy a home-grilled steak dinner and Red Velvet cake, and add support to the four pillars of marriage: the intellectual, the spiritual, the emotional and the physical aspects of our relationship.
Ta-dahhhh! This completes our Valentine's Day. It serves as plenty of celebration for us, not to mention we will have leftover cake. And when anyone asks about it, I happily note it was just what we wanted. 'Cause it always is just that.
Once upon a time, I felt envious of "Valentine Propaganda" -- those tokens of love advertised as the end-all, be-all of love. I believed the deception that a truly loving husband would cover all or most of those bases, like a Love Checklist. I ached for a bouquet of flowers at my desk and for a surprise drive to a special restaurant or ... something. I focused my Valentine thoughts through a filter of the world's expectations and through the advertisement of what love looks like, materially.
Love does not look like flowers, candy, food or dress-up clothes. Love does not look like lingerie or talking greeting cards. Love looks like a million things that no one person can list, and that no one can measure. Love, in each of our hearts, feels unique. It reflects our individuality. It cannot measure up to a relative's or friend's brand of it. It doesn't match the advertisement for a local jewelry store or candy shop.
Love looks like your first date, your first kiss, every date you shared before you engaged for marriage. Love looks like your wedding day full of hope and dreams of a future together. Love looks like arguments that you settled well, and those you didn't, but survived anyway. Love looks like wrong turns that God brought back full circle. Love looks like mistakes that helped you learn more about yourself and your husband. Love looks like the circle of your husband's arms and the imprint of his kiss. Love looks like tip-toeing by his chair when he has fallen asleep after a long day, and making sure you feed the kids early and wait to eat with him when he's late coming home from work. Love looks like giving in on little issues and learning to cooperate on larger ones. Love looks like tears shed out of frustration that you can't seem to understand each other, and tears again when you do finally understand. Love looks like working it all out through the years, no matter what.
Love cannot advertise itself. God invented it and showed it to his people all the time. Giving is love. Receiving gracefully is love. Love is a great number of things that never appear in commercials prior to February 14, because no couple shares the same love, and no couple ever will.
Comparing your love and marriage to anyone or anything else will only continue to thwart any forward motion you make. "If only ..." and "But, what about so-and-so's husband who did ..." and "I wish he would just ..." serve only to compare. You may definitely have unmet needs, but comparing "theirs and ours" or "hers and mine" for purposes of discovering what's missing in your marriage will never help. I guarantee that this kind of behavior will serve only to hurt and divide.
Make a deal with yourself this Valentine's Day -- that you will not think about what the day holds, or what you hope for, or what you want, or what might happen. Take what comes, or what doesn't, and look deeply at what love really is in your heart and marriage. Pay no attention to advertising, to what you see around town, or to friends' rehashing of the day -- focus on you and yours.
Then, make plans to continue adding to what love looks like for the two of you, every day, no matter what the box on the calendar shows. Every day can look like Valentine's Day.
Linking up this 13th day of February with: Wifey Wednesday, Encourage Your Spouse, What I Learned, Domestic Bliss Diaries, Works for Me Wednesday
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