​I work at an elementary school as a lunch lady, and the one and only time someone has ever asked me to be their Valentine was when I was wearing an apron and hair net.

Attractive, I know.

It was actually one of the boys who went to the school. I’m old enough to be his mom. As he came through the line, he declared to me, “You’re my Valentine!”

It was sweet and made me smile. I wished him a happy Valentine’s day and wondered how many other teachers and staff he had made the same declaration to.
 
Like I said, that’s the one and only time I was asked to be someone’s Valentine. (And I wasn’t even really asked!)

Growing up, there’s I song I would sing as a kid in church:

This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine…

Maybe it’s a song you’ve heard and sung over the years too.

It’s a simple and catchy song for kids, but its message is clear: as followers of Jesus, we are to be a light in this world.

But even though I sung this song with enthusiasm, even though I knew I was supposed to “shine my light”, even though it's a catchy phrase, I didn’t always know what it meant to be a light, or how I could.

​​Especially because I often don’t feel all that bright or shiny or special.

I’ve traveled to other countries several times. There are so many things I love about traveling, from meeting new people, to trying new foods, to seeing amazing sights.

But one of the downsides of traveling is jet lag; this discombobulating affect of being in a different time zone that leaves you exhausted.

No matter how amazing a trip was, once I get home, I’m need sleep, and lots of it.

One time after a trip, I was going to sit and read. I blinked and next thing I new I woke up 15 hours later. I slept through supper, and I’m pretty sure it was only hunger and the smell of breakfast cooking that woke me up.

Rest is something our bodies need. And not only our bodies, but our minds, our emotions, and our spirits.

The months leading up to my 25th birthday were hard.

With an unexpected loss in the family, heightened anxiety, feeling purposeless and deeply discontent in my singleness, I was going through a bit of a “quarter-life crisis” and actually kind of dreading turning 25.

So imagine my surprise when I walked into the room expecting a small dinner with my family, and several of my friends appeared from their hiding places, with gifts and balloons.

My family had planned a little surprise to brighten my birthday and encourage my heart.

Encourage means “to inspire with courage, spirit, or hope”.

​They asked me to do something for them, to help out in someway, to take part in this project.

​I really wanted to say, “No, that doesn’t work for me.”

Because I have other responsibilities I need to focus on right now, and I know this would distract me from them. I have other passions I’m pursuing, and I know this would take time away from them. I have other things I’m committed to doing, and I know this would cram my schedule too full, causing unnecessary stress and anxiety.

But despite the fact that my head, my heart, and my planner all said, “No, this doesn’t work,” I still found myself feeling pressured to say, “Yes.”

Not from the person who asked, but from my people-pleasing tendency.