Nanret had spent years thinking love was loud. Her relationships were filled with grand gestures: red roses, chocolate boxes, perfumes, fancy dinners and curated expressions of affection. But love doesn’t announce itself with fireworks. Sometimes, love is just a hand holding yours when the world feels too heavy.

When her father was shot by bandits, it wasn’t the big displays that mattered. It was her childhood friend, Henry, showing up every day without asking for anything in return. He cooked meals, cleaned her apartment and sat with her through the long nights at the hospital. No texts, no selfies, no audience - just presence.

One evening, as they sat quietly sipping tea, Nanret realized love had been there all along. It wasn’t the roses or the chocolate that made her heart feel safe - it was the patience, the listening and the unspoken commitment to stay.

On Valentine Day, lovers go out for special dinners, dates or plan quiet moments together. People say or write things that they may not say every day. They write love note, text messages, poems or social media posts celebrating partners, spouses and friends. It is usually a popular day for engagements, vow renewals and conversations about commitment and the future.

Though how it is celebrated depends on people and culture, Valentine’s Day tends to revolve around love, affection and exchange of gifts. Love is advertised as grand gestures, perfect couples and moments worth posting. Yet beneath the glitter, many hearts are asking quieter questions: What is love really? What does love look like when life is messy or painful?

At its truest, love is not seasonal, performative or selective. Love is patient presence. It is the decision to see, hear and honour another person’s humanity - even when it costs us something. Scripture reminds us that love “does not insist on its own way” (1 Corinthians 13:5). That alone challenges much of what Valentine’s culture celebrates.

Love is also not limited to romance. There is love that shows up in friendship, in care-giving, in forgiveness and in community. It is love when someone listens without rushing you to heal. It is love when boundaries are respected. It is love when truth is spoken gently and when silence is offered as sanctuary. In a world that prizes noise and speed, love invites you to slow down.

The most radical expression of love is self-giving love - the kind that gives, not because it is expecting something in return. Jesus’ life reframes love not as emotion but as action: feeding the hungry, touching the untouchable and standing with the wounded. Love, in this sense, becomes a daily posture rather than a single dramatic act. It asks not, What do I gain? but Who is served?

This Valentine season, love invites us to re-examine our priorities. Are we loving in ways that heal or in ways that control? Are we loving others while neglecting compassion for ourselves? Love includes rest. Love includes saying no. Love includes choosing wholeness over performance.
So whether you are celebrating with someone, grieving what is absent or learning to love yourself again, know this: love is not behind schedule. Love is not shallow. Love is not owned by one day in February. Love is a practice - quiet, costly and transformative.

How can we practice this kind of love together?
Let’s keep the conversation going.