Sucks to your asmar, Valentine's Day

I remember when I was single and I thought Valentine's Day sucked. And it did. But when you are single, it is like the world gives the right to raise your fist and yell "Sucks to your Asmar, Valentine's Day!"

But it kind of sucks when you're married sometimes too. Don't get me wrong. I love my husband. But my sinful nature has me wanting him to worship me and plan a romantic day centered around roses, chocolates, no messy diapers, and oodles of surprises that are too wonderful to even imagine. And let's face it, even if I were to have a day with all of those things, I would still be left unsatisfied.

And I know that.

Recently I've been convicted of the fact that I seek too much life from Sloan. That I expect him to be my source of joy, validation, identity. Apparently, he has not gotten this memo that he is to be my god. I have set him up to fail miserably. Yucko.

And so once again I'm repenting. Bluh. Repenting of seeking from others that which only God can provide. From polishing my golden calf of a husband and then getting angry when my idol does not behave as only God can. Bluh.

But...

Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst. But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his unlimited patience as an example for those who would believe on him and receive eternal life.

1 Timothy 1:15-16