Every year, Valentine’s Day stains the typically monochrome world of commercialism pink. Store shelves are flooded with (rather enticing) heart-shaped mugs and flowers that seem to have a flashing sign reading “Your wife will love these!” hanging over them. I’ll admit, even my rarely sentimental heart is entranced by these love-associated once-a-year musings. 

However, despite the largely romantic essence of the holiday, I cannot help but deem it similarly appropriate to celebrate the love of the Father towards His people, which far surpasses our finite, earthly understanding of love. 

For those like myself, it may be difficult at times to grasp that we are actually loved by the Father. We know that He created love, but it may feel as if God, in His supernatural nature, is a detached being who does not actually know us, let alone love us. We understand that He sent His son to the cross for us, but the magnitude of that action may not have sunk into our hearts. Being known and loved by God may feel foreign, even unthinkable. However, Scripture teaches us that the reality of God is quite opposite to these doubts. Romans 8:14-16 (NIV) states, 

“For those who are led by the Spirit of God are the children of God. The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, ‘Abba, Father.’ The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children.”

Scripture contradicts our worst fears of being unknown and unloved. Through Christ, we were adopted into the family of God, and remain dear to the Father’s heart. While we dwell on our inadequacies, the Spirit testifies that we belong wholly to the Lord – we are loved as a parent loves their child. We can look to Him and wholeheartedly cry, “Abba, Father.” 

The Heidelberg Catechism of 1563, structured as a series of 129 questions and answers, explores this concept. In Q & A 1, the catechism states, “What is your only comfort in life and death? That I am not my own, but belong with body and soul, both in life and in death, to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ.” 

This statement causes my heart to swell, and plainly echoes the previous statement made in Romans. When doubt arises and I begin to dwell on my unrighteousness, I can resolve “I am not my own.” This is no unfortunate statement, but a beautiful illustration of submission and belonging. Despite all of my shortcomings, I don’t need to uphold my individual identity on my own – it is held in the unwavering hands of Christ. We are so intimately loved that we belong entirely to the sovereign heart of God. What a true comfort this is! 

Additionally, nothing can separate us from this love. Perhaps this is a common notion we hear often, but I invite you to dive into its beauty once again this Valentine’s Day. Further on in Romans, Paul asserts, 

“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

As children of God, we do not earn the Father’s love through good works, better grades, or by adding to a resume – we do not lose the Father’s love by sinning, not accomplishing something we set out to do, or by simply not “being a good enough Christian.” No thing, especially no earthly thing, can separate us from the love of the Almighty.

We are the sheep that the shepherd sought out to rescue though we wandered away from the fold. We are the coin in the woman’s home that she rejoiced over when found again. We have been bought by Christ despite our unrighteousness – we are and will continue to be loved by the Father forevermore. 

Indeed, God created love, and we have the pleasure of partaking in it as humans, especially on a holiday like today. However, let us understand that no worldly understanding and celebration of love can compare to that of the Father welcoming us as prodigals back into His unrelenting embrace.