Thanks for the roses, Mom

Not too long ago, I used to hate Valentine's Day.

Throughout junior high and high school, I had confidence issues. Since I was 10 years old I was already at least a foot taller than everyone else my age. So for someone who didn't ever want attention, being the giraffe among prairie dogs was a difficult reality to wake up to everyday.

As I got older, I had sports. I was athletic and I knew it. But even that wasn't enough to feel "wanted".

It seemed like everybody always had somebody, except me. I didn't know anything about love, but it wasn't about that. I just wanted somebody to care.

February 14 became the yearly reminder that I wasn't special.

I remember one Valentine's Day during high school, it felt like all of my classmates had already been called to the front office at some point during the day to pick up their "gifts" from secret admirers. Nothing new.

Then my name was called.

Um, what? You have the wrong Kynzie Newman. I wanted to laugh. But before I could, my friends were doing all the "oohs" and "ahhs" because they knew it was a big deal too. Reminder, I hate that kind of attention. My face got extremely red as I left class and anxiously walked to the front office to receive my Valentine's gift.

"Who in the world could it be from?" I started going through all of the boys I could think of that might have an interest in me. Guess how many I came up with. Yep, none.

Even though I had no one in mind, I still felt excited. Maybe, finally, there was a boy who couldn't contain his love for me any longer. As I chewed on this thought, I was anticipating butterflies the moment I read off the name of the sender. I took a deep breath, and I read the note that came with the roses.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Kynz! I love you! Love, Mom"

I was so ashamed and embarrassed that I had even spent the time thinking it could be from a boy. I kicked myself for getting my hopes up.

As I got back to class, my friends were dying to know who sent it. Fighting back tears, I laughed and said it was from my mom.

I hated Valentine's Day.

Fast forward a few years later.

My first relationship came along my sophomore year of college.

Two years later, he became my husband.

Since being married I often think back to my record, or lack thereof, of relationships throughout high school. I wonder how in the world I got married when I never dreamed up this kind of future for myself as a teenager.

Turns out, high school is a liar. I didn't have that figured out until I met Ian.

Looking back, I have become so grateful for those roses my mom sent. She loved me. She knew I was special. She also told me "Good things come to those who wait." I trusted that. So I started spending my time getting to know Jesus, instead of a boy.

I'm a better wife because of those lonely February 14ths in high school.

Maybe you dated/are dating all through high school. Awesome, I'm happy for you.

Maybe you've never been in a relationship. Awesome, I'm happy for you.

I just want you to know that you ARE special, and you don't need a significant other to make that true.

To understand love in its purest form, get to know the One who is the complete expression of it. Drink from the well of living water, and you will never thirst again.

I'm out. Where's the chocolate?