In my life, Valentine’s Day was off to a good start.
When I was a teenager, around the time kids start pairing up in a way that makes you feel even more alone if you aren’t one of them, I remember my mom throwing a Valentine’s Day party for our family. I walked in to see the dining room decorated, the one no one went into except on very special occasions. I remember she bought balloons. And I remember feeling safe within some kind of love, even if it wasn’t the “I have a boyfriend” kind.
The feeling of safety impacted me so much that as soon as my kids were not babies anymore, I started a tradition: Family Valentine’s Dinner. Each year, I blogged about it, posted pictures, stitched heart-shaped placemats from red-and-white ticking cloth, and made chicken pot pie. I looked forward to it every year and wrapped small gifts for my husband and kids in red paper. I even found some tiny metal mailboxes into which we’d place notes of affirmation throughout the first two weeks of February.
I’d say, on a good year, my husband at the time participated in most of my shenanigans. We had some great parties, made beautiful memories with our kids. On a bad year, to say I set myself up for heartache is an understatement. Sometimes I was the only one with an empty mailbox. His periods of alternating silence or rage hit differently in February. One night, after a particularly rough Valentine’s, I cried into the sink as I washed the makeup off my face. Our love was splintering, and I kept making crafts with the kids. I didn’t know what else to do but keep cutting out paper hearts, rows of red and pink among the fish crackers and apple slices.
On the first Valentine’s Day after the divorce, my thoughtful dad ran interference at See’s Candy in an effort to keep my spirits afloat, sending flowers and a heart-shaped box of chocolates; it was February 2020. And since then, life has been a hot mess, so many traditions have fallen outside of my reach. This Valentine’s, my daughter is away at school, my son will be with his dad, and the memories of Family Valentine’s Dinner, one of my favorite traditions, will be humming quietly like our vintage school clock, a relic from another time.
I’m getting used to envisioning new paths for my life, though. Change and loss have been firm teachers. They’ve crumpled up the blue prints I drew up years ago and made me start over. I didn’t get what I thought I wanted - an intact family where I could throw a love-party every February 14th - but it’s somehow okay. Love never lived on that square of the calendar. Love is outside of dates, outside of traditions, sometimes even outside of marriage.
I’m learning how to celebrate where Love lives, inside my own heart, with the Lover of my soul. I’m listening more. I’m giving myself permission to buy the flowers, if I want them. And I’m widening my embrace; I will get out the good china and make our traditional chicken pot pie for a couple of young women I love to cook for. I will swipe on red lipstick. And I will fill my own mailbox with words of kindness.
Loving oneself well is more than just positive thinking or cute sayings. Truly loving oneself requires a tapping into Spirit, who is whispering to us our unshakeable goodness all the time. The imagination must be invited into the process, because you won’t believe your own words if you just make up compliments.
Pause and listen. Maybe even write them down.
I’ll share with you some of my love notes right now, from me to me, but also from my Lover.
You are doing so well! What you went through was really hard. Look how you are making it through! I’m always cheering for you.
Your mothering is one of your beauties. It’s not perfect, but it’s powerful. Your mama-love is like lightning.
You are learning to walk in the way of peace. You have come so far. You are teaching your body to rest. I’m so proud of how you’re trying to heal.
The way you use your gifts is like you are walking around passing out presents to everyone in your life. You are such a blessing.
I know you long for more - for full healing, for new relationships, for security and safety - but your patience and your persistent hope is like a crown on your head. Keep going and hold your head high.
I’ve seen your whole story. I’ve heard every prayer. Let me remind you now: You are worthy of being heard. You are worthy of being known, deeply, by someone who isn’t afraid. You are my choice, my favorite. My love is for keeps.
You are my beloved.
(I hope you heard some of those in your spirit too, because your mailbox is full.)
make this.
Cheater Chicken Pot Pie
Sometimes I need shortcuts. I confess, I did once judge The Pioneer Woman for adding actual canned chili to her recipe for chili (how is that legal?), but this is different. Okay, it’s not that different, but my kids liked this Pot Pie so much, it became our traditional Valentine’s Day family dinner. And it’s sooo easy. It serves 4, generously.
Preheat oven to 425.
ingredients
1 refrigerated or frozen pie crust, brought to room temp
olive oil
1 small onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tsp thyme
salt and pepper
1/2 C white wine
1 T flour
2/3 C chicken stock
3 C cooked chicken, cubed
1 bag frozen mixed vegetables (such as peas and carrots), thawed
1 jar Alfredo sauce
1 egg, beaten
Step 1: Cook down the onion, garlic, thyme and salt and pepper in the olive oil, 5-7 min. Add wine and cook until mostly evaporated, 2 more minutes. Sprinkle with flour, cook for 1 min. Add chicken stock and stir until mixture thickens slightly. Remove from heat.
Step 2: Stir in alfredo sauce, chicken, and vegetables. Pour mixture into baking dish (or pie dish).
Step 3: Roll out the thawed dough to slightly larger than the dish. Press edges down to seal it on top of dish. Brush with 1 beaten egg and make a few 1” slits in the top to vent.
Step 4: Bake for about 35 min or until crust is golden and pie is bubbly. You might want to put a foil-lined cookie sheet beneath the pie in case of bubbling over. Let rest for 15 min before serving. Enjoy!
join this.
For February, we’ll be digging into one of my passions, the ancient practice of Sabbath. I once heard a pastor who was teaching on Sabbath say, “I’ve never heard anyone say, ‘I used to Sabbath…’” and I now know what he meant. I’ve hammered out a simple routine of my own over the last 5 years or so, and I will never go back to a life without it. Sabbath has been that life changing, and I don’t hear of any people talking about it. Sabbath is not just a fun tradition or an opportunity for spiritual extra credit. The health of my entire being literally pivots on this time, week after week. I can’t stress it enough.
So I’ll be sharing what I’ve studied, the Scriptures that have deeply convicted me, and my personal parameters I use for making the most of my Sabbath time. If you are feeling regularly stressed, constantly zipping from one thought to the next, if you struggle to find space to connect with your faith journey, or struggle to know how to truly rest, this is for you. I hope you’ll join us.
If you’re interested, this guide will arrive via email as the monthly bonus content for my paid members. If you aren’t yet subscribed to the paid version, it’s only $5/month, and you can try it for as long as the monthly bonus content is serving you. (The annual price gets you two months for free.)
May you walk into February with your face held up to the radiance of Love.
May you have the courage to hear your name being called.
May you listen for the whispers of Love who pursues you even now.
You are the beloved,
Leslie
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So powerful and tender 💗
Beautifully said. Thinking of you.