I inherited my aunt’s Bible. Lovingly worn, it falls open to her favorite passages. With her Bible in my hands, it’s impossible not to think of my aunt and the many times she turned to it for strength: when my uncle was missing in action during World War II and later when she learned he was a prisoner of war; after the war, when they learned to make peace with their childlessness; and during my uncle’s long illness, when my aunt prayed for him to let go and go to heaven.

After my uncle died, my aunt spent many years in poor health. She often slept with her Bible on her lap. During those last days she spoke through tears about how she longed for her Phil and how she couldn’t wait to see him again.

The first time I opened my aunt’s Bible, I was awestruck at the beautiful cards tucked in the pages, reminders of my great-grandfather, grandfather, great-uncle and uncle. Then, after having the Bible for almost a year, I found pressed deep in its pages a scrap of notebook paper folded into a tiny heart. It read:

Dearest husband,

I love you more than I will ever be able to express with pen and ink. You are my rock. My strength. My comfort. God bless you for your goodness.

I love you always and forever.

Dear Lord, on this Valentine’s Day, remind me that even though love isn’t always perfect or easy, its strength and beauty are everlasting.