Sunday was Valentine’s Day.
Yes, I know it was only January 23rd, but a gift of love was given to me. It wasn’t flavored with chocolate, wrapped in a heart-shaped box, or dangling from a chain.
I’ve read the book on love languages and still don’t think I could tell you mine, but I sure know love when I see it.
On the way home from the Sunday morning church service, my husband noticed the quarter of a tank of gas in my car and stopped at the gas station to fill it up.
While I sat at the dining room table after finishing our meal, he headed to the kitchen and washed every single dish.
When I felt a bit cold and added an extra layer of clothing, he started the gas fireplace to warm up the house.
Love in action.
Yet not only was this early, unintended Valentine’s day gift for me, but I believe it was also for our children. Though they didn’t comment, they are always observing.
One day, our daughters will wonder what true love from a man looks like. Into their minds will seep memories of their dad – pumping gas, washing dishes, starting a fire.
Then they’ll know that love isn’t just flowery words or expensive presents or an emotional high; it’s an unselfish act, done simply to bring joy to another.