He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me...

When I was a young girl, I remember walking through patches of flowers to admire their fragrance and beauty; sometimes I would pluck bouquets of them from the ground to bring home for my mom or myself to admire there.  Many times I would choose just one particular flower from the field, then I'd say the familiar verse, "He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me..." - one petal was removed as each new phrase was spoken - I was always hoping that the last petal would confirm that he did, indeed, love me.  I didn't really understand that my efforts with the flower petals were fairly futile back then; I had little comprehension of who "he" even was when I was young.

As I grew older, my understanding of the value of relationships grew as well.  At times I became painfully aware of the feeling of loneliness; although I could have been surrounded by family, friends, or even among a crowd, I didn't feel as though I belonged to any of them.  Other times I was blissfully happy at home, church, school, the mall, etc. - in every place where I could feel completely comfortable with the people I was around.  As I swung through the highs and lows of learning how to relate to people, I began to understand how each person had an impact on my own character development.  I learned how to appreciate those who valued me, and cautiously relate to those who didn't.  I learned also that those who chose to dislike me, struggled within themselves to recognize the value in other people.  I understand that the process of relating to people is a life-long one, and that every moment of the process - just as every person - has eternal value.

People want to believe that they matter, that they have importance.  And, if they can belong to - or relate very well to - just one other person, then they can see the value they have in themselves.  This belief system is, perhaps, never as blatantly evident as it is during our adolescent years.  It is during this time that it seems as though every fiber of our being drives us to find that 'someone special'; really, what we are striving for is the feeling that we are the one who is special to someone else.  This feeling is unbelievably delicate - it can be so easily shattered by one word or gesture, either spoken or left out - yet it is so fiercely desired.

It was during my adolescence that my significance was confirmed.  God's love taught me to respect the necessary solemnity of physical relationships, so I could not fathom becoming intimately involved with anyone who did not hold to the same Spiritual reality as I did.  I had grown up believing that God loved me, so when none of my peers found me attractive enough to pick me out of the crowd, I concluded that He would have to be enough for me.  He loved me.

However, the human connection that I so desperately desired still remained, and I hoped that surely there had to be someone with whom I could share a loving relationship with.  Through the years of middle school, high school, and young adulthood, I found many guys attractive, and I tried to be attractive (as I could manage) to them, but had little success finding anyone who would return my affection.  Each year of misplaced and misguided affection, my reality was that he loved me not.

In my early 20's, I was blessed with a close circle of friends.  From that circle grew a bond with the one man who chose to pick me from the crowd.  Though our relationship has been known to produce thorns at times, those are not among our most noteworthy features; it is the glory of God's amazing love in, with, and for us that brings beauty to our home!  My husband reveals to me the heart of my loving God by using his strong arms to hold and comfort me and our children, his knowledge and faith to guide us, his life experiences to warn us, and his passion and faithfulness to insure joyful times as well as to endure through life's difficulties.  As he loves God, so he loves me!

When I was young, I recognized that some flowers were more beautiful than others; some beautiful flowers were more pleasingly fragrant than others; I learned that some bouquets were actually weeds I had gathered, and others were out of well-designed gardens.  Being a mom, I encourage the young people I enjoy relating with now, to learn how to admire those relationships which reflect the Glory of God.  We must learn how to belong to the most well-designed, most pleasing, fragrant, and beautiful kinds of relationships; so, we will be able to bring such beauty into our homes - to our friends, families, and among the crowds - it is through these kinds of relationships that we are blessed to know who He is and why He loves us!