Why are we so relieved when someone we trust listens to our awkward confession and still “gets” us without judgement…yet we are often fearful to say what we really think/feel to people we are unsure of?

Why do we feel at home with people who know our quirks…and feel we must put on a mask with those who don’t know us well, lest they should find us quirky (or worse)?

Why do we repeatedly attempt to hide from God just like our earliest ancestors did, even when we will always be as unsuccessful at it as they were?

For a hundred different reasons at different times, we do not want to be known – at least, not really. And yet, if we could listen to the nearly-suffocated voice of the core deep inside us, we might hear it whisper, “Who would really want to know me here? And if they did, would they love me still?”

Ironically, this being known so intimately by God and others with the knowing coated in fear-abolishing love: this is the most important desire of the human heart.

(I guess that’s why I had to write about being loved before I could write about being known. I would be petrified of the knowledge that God knows me fully if I could not hold onto the promise that He loves me even more.)

This month and next month, I will continue my weekend posts, further exploring what it means to be known intimately and to know intimately. But I am going to take it one step further.

Lent begins this week. Upon reflection, this year I have decided not to abstain from something. Instead, I am choosing to feast, to immerse myself in this idea of being known – and not just being known, but being delighted in.

I know deep in my gut that God knows me. But what really boggles my mind is the thought that He, knowing me, would actually and always, delight in me.

And He, the master of the universe, asks me to know Him. And to delight in Him.

Breathtaking.

So, I hope you will join me on a journey. Starting daily, from March 6 through the Lenten season, I will post a picture of a new, simple piece of word art reflecting some aspect of this wonderful mystery: God’s delight in us and our delight in Him.

Most days there will be no commentary. But I hope that pausing to see each image will give your soul a sip of nectar, sweetness to brighten your being from the inside out. Please drink deeply with me and share with others who may need to see the images too.

Let’s be known – and delighted in – together.

You may already know some of the history behind Valentine’s Day, an occasion that many will celebrate this week. But to recap, at its base, this day honors the life and death of a man who believed so strongly in the importance of love and marriage that he set the truth of his convictions above the laws of the land – and it ended up costing him his life. Not only his life, but also the chance to stay with the love of his life just a short time after he had finally found her. In fact, the only part of our modern celebration that closely reflects his story is the idea of writing a note to the one you love, something he did before he was executed.

Another early saint named Paul wrote a letter of his own to people he cared deeply about a couple of centuries before Valentine lived. In his letter, Paul wrote, “If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.” This was a truth Valentine believed in, and though he wasn’t burned to death (he was executed by archers), he both surrendered his body AND had love. Therefore, though he sacrificed his earthly relationship in the process, he gained everything.

We often think of February 14 as a day for overpriced flowers, steak dinners, imported truffles, and jewelry; these are the modern symbols of love. But love is so much more than that.

Like Thanksgiving, Christmas, Martin Luther King Day, Easter, and Mother’s Day, we are momentarily recalling values and concepts that are much bigger than what can be contained in any single day. Gratitude, peace, love, service, victory, and devotion are all things that would be better exhibited 365 days of the year. And yet, sadly, this February 15, somewhere two friends will have a huge fight, somewhere else a couple will divorce, and at a third location a parent will abuse her child right next door to the small business where a coworker will slander his boss.

Why is this? Could it be that we’ve all developed love-specific dementia? In his same letter, St. Paul went on to describe how we can identify love by these traits: patience, kindness, contentment, quietness, humility, respect, selflessness, slow-fused reactions, forgiveness, purity, truth, protection, trust, hope, faithfulness.

Wow. That’s the kind of love the soul is starved for.

Most people, if they’re observing closely, even if they can’t express it in words, know when they see or feel examples of this deeper love. But living these traits out ourselves with any kind of consistency? That’s another story.

In our modern society, I think this is because nurturing these traits inside of our own self and in relationship with other people takes an incredible amount of time, energy, focus, and solid listening skills.

But I would argue that love-laced traits (far more than the blue whale, the snow leopard, and the giant panda) are the real endangered species of our era. Because without them, hearts, relationships, and communities will whither and die.

So this Valentine’s Day – and in all the days following – would you consider setting remotes and devices aside more often and choosing to extend respect-filled patience or hope-filled trust to another in place of fancy gifts, pricey meals, self-seeking gestures, and empty words?

The best choices are rarely the easiest choices. But, in the end, they lead to everything that matters.