I waited a long, long time to have a Valentine.  23 years, minus that one year in the 7th grade when Leland Tebo was my boyfriend.  The chocolate rose he gave me broke, and I could barely dance one slow song with him, before I ran away to the bathroom to freak out.   

I’ve come a long way since then, I have.  I think. 

Today, I am in love.  With two people actually.  I’m first and foremost, madly in love with my Jesus - He is the one who truly has my heart, and makes everyday worth living.  He has my love forever and ever.  The second is the love of my life, Tyler.  He is it, I swear.  Loves me when I least deserve it, want it, or even crave it.  He makes me smile by his incredible humor, and his smile makes my heart skip beats - it’s true!  I can’t wait to marry this man, and spend the rest of my life with him - him with faults, and flaws, and scars, and wounds - with me - complete with faults, and flaws, and scars, and wounds.  I love him when he dances with me in front of 50 people, and I love him when it’s just him and I playing board games at a diner.  He has proved to be secure, and steady, and is a rock in my tower.  I look forward to Saturday’s spent with him, and I will love him forever, and always.  

Today, we are spending this holiday apart because of work, and school, and work.  But, Saturday, we will be together, and I can’t wait :)

I guess I’m writing all this, because I remember being single last year, and so frustrated with the season.  I had a similar feeling that I have today.  That feeling that man’s love will never, ever compare to the outlandish love of Christ.  It’s HIS love that keeps me going, day in, day out.  I crave His the most out of all the attention and affection I receive.  

Give yourself to Christ’s love, fully, my friend.  Give yourself to His lavishing affections over you.  He is so delighted in you, and the grace He gives to you, just like His mercies, are new every morning.  You are clothed in strength, and can get through any season, knowing, and walking in this truth. 

His love never fails. 

Before you read, please scroll down to the bottom of this page, and click ‘play’ and ‘repeat’, on the following instrumental song :)

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I tend to start off blogs describing where I’m at, what I’m doing, and what is surrounding me.  I’m very much a “sight, touch, smell” person.  Hands on, I guess you would call it.  I want others to know exactly what I’m feeling and seeing, and realizing all in the moment I’m writing it.  I do that when I tell stories too.  I could take a whole extra twenty minutes just describing the atmosphere of the place I was in when “that thing” happened.  By the time I’m done, my friends - all very loving - are forced to roll their eyes, or blankly stare at me to “get to the point, Sam!”  I reply with trying to get them to understand that I have to “Set the scene, gosh!” …

Setting the scene is important to me as I write and tell stories.  I become present again in that moment, so when I re-tell it, or re-write it, I am feeling all over again the emotions that were paired with the story, hoping they touch the reader, or listener.

Deep breath.  I guess this is where I come in.

Today I woke up at my Dad’s house.  The home of Teddy the dog, Gabby the cat, my Step Mom, Kathy, and my Dad, Glenn.  I fell asleep in a very packed room.  Boxes, bags, blankets, and a large assortment of vases, and twigs - I have a very crowded space that is begging to be unpacked.  With my parent’s divorced at age 7, I haven’t lived with my Dad since then for more than a couple of days at a time.  I’m 23, and let’s just say that waking up in my parent’s house was a little strange.  There was, however, coffee made this morning, and eggs in the fridge, and I was quite please with both of those things.  I spent the morning chatting Kathy’s ear off, and drinking my coffee a lot quicker than normal.  Re-fills were a staple for my waking up process. 

Sitting back on my bed, I opened my Bible.  I have missed it’s pages, and wisdom, and found myself hungry for time.  Yesterday, I had some of it.  Time, that is.  I was sitting in my car - the rain pitter-pattering on the windshield.  I began journaling out some heart pains, and the Lord brought me to this verse.

 1 Peter 5:10

And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.

Scars heal.

{Jeremiah 30:17} For I will restore health to you, and your wounds I will heal, declares the Lord.

Sometimes when I talk, things come out like word vomit… I know, I know… Kind of a gross description, but it gets the point across. I need to work on my speaking skills.  Until then, I write. And write, I do.  I’ve had a blog since I was 19.  I was snowed in, living at my grandmas, and thought - “what the heck”. And the rest is history. 500 posts later, I am still writing, and have even created my own domain name, thanks to my cool cat Eric :) You can view my old blog here: mytwentysomethinglove.blogspot.com (Whew! That’s alot to type!) I still post there periodically. ;) someday I’ll do the big transition! 

twentysomethingLove is all about expressing ones own love for Christ. The Love of this life.  The Love of my life. Here, I can type out my heart, and hope these words are being used to heal, touch, transform, shape, mold, and restore faith in people’s lives.  Here, I can be me.  I’m not a famous blogger with 100 followers, nor do I have super-sweet pictures, edited with the best software.  I have instagram, and a camera phone. That’s about all you’re getting from me for now! 

This blog keeps my thoughts from getting jumbled together, and it keeps my hand from getting writers cramps!  This blog helps my grammar, my spelling, and of course it helps with my heart too.  Writing is so therapeutic to me - healing happens here.  

This is where I take off.  

I’m about to write my story out for small group tomorrow night.  The grime and grace of my life.  The mystery and misery.  The rescuing of a very acrobatic God. He is awesome, and I love Him. 

This is my starting point. 

All’s Grace,

Samantha