This past valentine, my wife and I together with two other couples, organized a valentine dinner and dance to raise funds for our Church building. It was a stunning affair. For weeks – no, months ahead of the affair – my wife, like every other woman who attended, asked the all important question: “What will I wear?” This brought a bit of “dome” in our home as she had just bought herself two dinner dresses a couple of months back. Another woman as the special night drew closer wondered if it was possible to lose ten Kilos in seven days in order to fit into a lovely dinner dress her hubby had bought her several years back.
The evening turned out to be glorious. Every detail attended to and lovely, thanks to the Toros and Otiendes. But the highlight by far was the women. Above all the “Tamashas” of that day, above the deco on the hall, above the delicious food and even above the music that floated the air, was the sound of delighted exclamations. “You look beautiful!” “What an amazing dress!” “How lovely you are!”
The ladies were delighting in each other’s beauty and enjoying their own. Indeed I hadn’t seen those ladies look so beautiful apart from their wedding day.
These women were normal women, working women, housewives, women whose battle against pimples and acne has left their faces marked and their souls scarred. Women whose struggle with their weight after a few childbirths has been the bane of their lives. Ordinary women if there is such a thing. But women who, at least for a few hours this night, took the risk of revealing their beauty. Perhaps better, whose beauty was unveiled.
You see men, deep within the heart of every woman is the cry, 'Am I lovely". They long to unveil their beauty so as to captivate their man. And so the next time she comes from the salon, make it an event in your house and you will be amazed at how delighted she will be.
“The King (Not just God, but you and I men) is enthralled by your beauty.” – Psalm 45:11
NB. Watch this space for next years valentine event. You won't wanna miss it.
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