February is known as the month of love.

Red hearts. Sweet messages. Celebrations everywhere.

But for some, this month feels tender.

Not because love is absent.
But because it looks different now.

Maybe you have experienced a loss.
Maybe someone you care about is far away.
Maybe a relationship shifted.
Maybe a dream changed.
Maybe life feels quieter than it once did.

Loss has many faces.

And feeling it does not make you weak. It does not make you ungrateful. It does not make you less faithful.

I know what it feels like to experience the kind of loss that changes you quietly and permanently. I have lost both of my parents. I have also lived through seasons of separation and transition. Grief is not always loud. Sometimes it resurfaces in months like February.

That is human.

Here is what I want you to know.

Love did not die.

God is love. Not performance. Not perfection. Love.

When love is rooted in God, it does not disappear simply because circumstances change. Scripture reminds us that the Lord is close to the brokenhearted. Close. Not distant. Not rushing you. Not minimizing what you feel. Close.

And when Paul writes that among faith, hope, and love the greatest is love (1 Corinthians 13:13), he is not speaking poetically. He is giving us something steady to stand on. If love is the greatest, then we do not shut it down when a season ends. We do not harden our hearts just to survive. We carry love forward.

Love does not disappear. It transforms.

What you shared mattered.
What you invested was real.
What you felt was not wasted.

Maybe that looks like writing what your heart still holds.
Maybe it means thanking God for what was while adjusting to what is.
Maybe it means putting words on paper that you never intend to send.

Take a deep breath.

You are still loved.

Even if your emotions feel mixed or tender, nothing can separate you from the love of God. Not distance. Not change. Not disappointment. His love has not moved.

Love remains.

That is one of the reasons I created Heartfelt Echoes: Letters of Love, Faith, and Hope for the Waiting Heart .

It is a space for words that still need somewhere to land. A place for letters that cannot be sent. For prayers still forming. For thoughts that echo quietly in the heart.

You can write to someone.
You can write to a season.
You can write to your future.
You can write to yourself.

You do not have to share the pages with anyone. You simply give your heart permission to speak.

If your heart still has words to say, you can pre-order your copy of Heartfelt Echoes here [insert link], and give those words a place to land.

This February, instead of silencing what feels tender, try writing one letter.

Let love speak.
Let it echo.
Let it live.

Because love did not die.

It echoes.

And so do you.