Mamapalooza

Today’s post is dedicated to my mom. Mother of seven, grandmother of 18, great-grandmother to one, and many, many more loved ones by marriage and choice.

This past summer I put a video together for mom’s birthday. It was so much fun to go to her house and one-by-one sneak box after box of photos out. When I got them to my house it was like an archeological dig. I anxiously removed the lid of the box and carefully peered inside. As I leaned into the interior of the box I got a faint whiff of something. It smelled old, like faded memories in the small crevasses of my brain. I methodically pulled out photos by the handful. Some pictures I had never seen, making it seem like I was unearthing rare artifacts. Some were old favorites that I have grown up with. The rest had been forgotten but once seen, immediately brought back flashes of remembrance.

Below is my very humble video. There are a several things I would like to point out.

A couple spots in the video I consider “God moments.“ I am not very familiar with movie-maker so it was basically a learn-as-I-go project. There are a couple moments when the music and the images aligned perfectly and there is no possible way I could have planned it.

When I played the video back for the first time with the music on it I noticed that during the song “As For Me and My House” the clip of my parent initials, a heart and date came up right when the words were “as for me and my house, we will praise the Lord.”

Toward the end of the video this quote is used, “My mom is a neverending song in my heart of comfort happiness and being. I may sometimes forget the words but I always remember the tune.” I have not heard this quote before, but I came across it and really liked it, so I added it to the video. When this clip of the quote is shown, we are singing “with our neverending praise.”

The pictures of the scriptures are actual photos from one of my mom’s Bible.

And, last, but certainly not least; I chose the Ricky Skaggs song “Somebody’s Praying” especially for this project. Eleven or twelve years ago I was estranged from my family and from God. I felt so alone and I couldn’t pray for myself because I felt abandoned by God. Then I heard this song.

Somebody's prayin, I can feel it
Somebody's prayin' for me
Mighty hands are guiding me
To protect what I can't see
Lord I believe, Lord I believe
That somebody's prayin', for me.

Angels are watchin', I can feel it
Angels are watchin' over me
There's many miles ahead 'til I get home
Still I'm safely kept before your thrown
'Cause Lord I believe, Lord I believe
Your angels are watchin' over me.

I felt like this song was sent to me, and I knew that even though I couldn’t pray for myself, and I was so isolated, that my mom was praying for me still.

My mom, like moms everywhere, does not expect thanks and accolades for being a great mom. But it is my great pleasure to share a little of her life on my post and to publicly convey my gratitude for her life as an example of godly wife and mother.

Please allow ample time for the video to load.

Recovering Worship

A while back our pastor invited our congregation to join him on a journey to recover giving as an act of worship. In addition to any regular tithe or offering, each member has been asked to put one dollar in the offering plate every Sunday for the months of October, November and December. In Jamie’s words he hopes this one dollar offering will, “nurture gratitude to God and inspire us to become a more generous people.”

At my church we are blessed with talented musicians and magnificent instruments. In the midst of wonderful music during the offertory, I usually bow my head and soak in the beauty of the music and wonder of God.

But, two weeks ago after the plate was passed in the choir loft and I gave my dollar, my eyes strayed to the rest of the congregation. Witnessing the response to the offering plate gave me a warm glow in my heart. I noticed the plates moving across the aisles and down the pews, from hand to hand. Everyone from very young to the most senior put something in it as it passed.

Giving as an act of worship.

Is it more?

I can’t judge whether this exercise will recover the sense of giving as an act of worship for the entire congregation. But what I can judge is the unity I have seen in the hands that pass the plate and deposit their dollars together. I believe there is vested interest in this experience together.

I’ve always thought of worship as being about relationship, adoration and praise of God. But this experience shines a new light on the concept and deepens my insight into worship. What would happen if our worship also encompassed the inclusive nature of God’s love and common purpose among His children?

I haven’t asked Jamie exactly what he meant when he said he hoped that giving one dollar each week will nurture gratitude to God and inspire us to become a more generous people. What I hope it means is not only are we more generous in our gratitude and our tithe, but that we also become more generous in our love for one another, reaching across the aisles and down the pews to come together hand-to-hand and heart-to-heart.

God, The Architect

Here in my hometown there’s an old fast-food restaurant on the corner of a very busy intersection that was razed several months ago. Long ago I went to junior high next door. When I was a student at Brazelton it was a Burger Chef. Somewhere along the line it changed names. The doors were closed for the last time about a year ago. The building remained empty for a long time. And then one day it was gone!

I drive past the location every morning on my way to the post office. I watch to see what is happening at that spot. Last spring trucks showed up and started hauling off debris. Then earth-movers began digging and moving big piles of dirt. One day large bundles of cement blocks, bricks and other building supplies showed up. For months it was a huge, seemingly chaotic mess! I didn’t see any progress being made, just piles of stuff being moved around.

Then, almost overnight it emerged. One day nothing; the next a retaining wall and a foundation. The walls began to go up and it has been steadily taking shape ever since.

My life is like that construction project. I thought I had it all planned out. But, it just wasn’t working, it became dilapidated and neglected. In time, my life was empty, and remained that way for a long time.

Then God went to work. He tore down my defenses that were housed behind a crumbling façade of self sufficiency. For a long time my life seemed in complete turmoil. There were big piles of dirt unearthed and on display for curious on-lookers. It was a hard and painful season spent in a very public, empty and muddy lot with a big hole where my heart should have been.

But building blocks love and faith were delivered. A firm foundation was poured. Slowly, order began to take place and my life, built on the Rock, began to develop.

Unlike the structure being built on the busy corner, my life is far from complete. God will continue to expose, and tear down the parts of my life that are not pleasing to Him. In their place He will help to build the character which grows me more and more like Him.

There are no words superlative enough to express my thanks to God. He loves me so much He took my old self and, like a brilliant architect, redesigns and transforms me to reflect His glory. I will forever be grateful.God The Architect by William Blake

Peaceful Fall

I sit down in the springy metal chair on the porch. The day is peaceful and still. I closed my eyes against the bright sunshine and feel it warm on the left side of my face. The cement porch is nice and cool under my bare feet. It seems perfectly quiet as I rock.

I hear the wind rustling the tops of trees, sounding like Mammy’s red petticoat in Gone With The Wind, encircling me from left to right like the wave in a stadium. The chirping of a lone cricket calls to me from the woods. As I concentrate on the song he is singing it is as if my ears come in to focus and I hear the cacophony of nature. More crickets and a chorus of ribbitting frogs join in. A cardinal sings whoit-whoit-whoit from his roost. There's a constant high pitched twee-twee from the beautiful yellow finches in the trees and an occasional blue jay squawking kee-kee.

The leaves are just barely beginning to dress in their autumn splendor; peeks of yellow are showing through the shady woods. On the periphery of the woods the sumac are already ablaze in fiery red. There are patches of white wood aster wildflowers growing rampantly. Less easy to see from my perch on the porch is the Kentucky State Flower, the lowly goldenrod, and small yellow sunflowers with their faces turned to be kissed by the sun.



I love our land. We have a beautiful, peaceful setting with a big yard and trees that hide the neighboring homes until they drop all their foliage and their naked branches reach up to the winter sky. To the side of our home, and in the back we have woods where deer roam in the dusk and dawn. We have a trail wide enough for the golf cart to wind through the woods and along the fence line of the bordering farm. In the past, we have turned it into a haunted trail for Halloween with skeletons, ghosts, goblins and dead man’s gulch.

view from the fence line

views of the backyard and trail

along the driveway

Cooper sees something

Our land is beautiful in the winter and summer. And, when everything is coming to life and I am surrounded by that “new” green that seems to be reserved for the birth of springtime I am awash anew with the wonder of God’s creation and my joy that I live smack dab in the middle of it.

But, my favorite time of year is right now, the fall. I love everything about it. I love the morning chill that greets me as I wake up. The days as they grow cooler; sweater-weather / football-weather. After the long, hot summer, I cannot wait for the first morning when I can see my breath in puffs as I warm the car. I love the way God pours out his autumn paints to drip down the trees. I find great beauty in the falling, drifting leaves; the way they entwine in a type of choreographed, spinning waltz in front of me as I drive down the road. It makes me happy to have the crackle and crunch of dried leaves under my feet as I walk. The smell of bonfires and burning leaves gives me little shivers of delight. I even love the days as they grow shorter and the nights longer.

Welcome fall!

October gave a party;
The leaves by hundreds came-
The Chestnuts, Oaks, and Maples,
And leaves of every name.
The Sunshine spread a carpet,
And everything was grand,
Miss Weather led the dancing,
Professor Wind the band.
- George Cooper, October's Party

God Is In His Heaven

My precious friend Leah leaned over to me in the choir loft at church this morning and told me that she was bringing my family dinner tonight. WOW! What a blessing. We had a fabulous meal of good eats directly from their garden. OK, maybe not directly from the garden since the veggies were cooked, but it was wonderfully fresh!

It was so out of the blue, completely unexpected. But it was absolutely appreciated.

After dinner Alex and I took the golf cart down the little gravel road to deliver some books to my mom. The setting sun painted a brilliant array of pinks, oranges and yellows against the darkening sky. I smelled autumn in the air; a familiar and comforting scent I associate with falling leaves and crisp apples. But for today, at least, the leaves are still hanging on the trees and rustling in the wind. I closed my eyes as Alex drove and just enjoyed the cool breeze in my face.

After a short visit with my mom and sister we hurried back home, relying on the scant moonlight to help navigate the narrow road. I reveled in the joy I always experience at the first kiss of autumn; the rich smells, glorious colors, crunching sounds and the feel of the brisk air.

In the few short minutes it took to get home it dawned on me that I was truly content. For a brief moment tonight I experienced an elusive, absolute sense of well-being. As Robert Browning said “God’s in his Heaven - All’s right with the world!”

I wish I could keep the feeling all the time. I wish I could let go of my worries and troubles and leave them where they fall. But, like Paul,

I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. (Romans 7:15)

I try to drop my burdens, and for periods of time I can, but before I know it, I’ve packed them back up and strapped them on for the journey.

Jesus tells us to come to Him and He will give us rest.

Do I trust Him? Absolutely. So why do I still find it difficult to stop depending solely on myself, to think I have to find the solution or always be in control of the situation. I don’t even want to. It is hard work and I am tired. I long for that rest that He speaks of, yet I find myself almost fighting against it at times.

This is one truth I must re-learn again and again. My worries are like those autumn leaves hanging on the trees for dear life. I need to trust God and let go of them; let them swirl and dance into the wind and out of my mind. I need to remind myself to be ever vigilant. To seek God in prayer, give Him my burdens, and then move on; don’t look back and by all means, don’t pick them back up.

Matthew 11:28-30 Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

Let Your Heart Be Broken

A friend of mine just returned from a mission trip to Guatemala. This morning I finished reading her reflections of the trip on her blog. (Erin's blog) Erin’s last entry about her trip describes her feelings on bonding with several of the children in Hermano Pedro orphanage. I’ll admit, it got to me. You should really read it!

(Sidebar: the older I get the more emotional I get. I usually can’t even get through a church service without tearing up for some reason….I know, I’m pitiful, but I digress.)

I began to take stock of my own heart. Sometimes I am oblivious, and sometimes just very much Scarlet O’Hara…you know, “I can’t think about this now…I’ll think about it tomorrow” when it comes to noticing people to help and to love. I get so caught up in the details of my everyday life, it seems there’s never enough time to get it all done. Before I know it, that tomorrow I’ve planned for has passed me by unnoticed and, by then I’m well into worrying about something else.

As I drove to work I contemplated Erin’s trip to Guatemala. In a very short amount of time, these children left a permanent imprint on her heart. Erin won’t be the same as before, nor can she forget the children at Hermano Pedro.

Would they touch me the same way?
Would I even open my heart for that opportunity?

OH NO! Here I go again.

You would think by now I would know NEVER-SAY-NEVER. My wonderful church (Immanuel Baptist Church) has a partnership with a church in Klintsy, Russia. For 13 summers we have had members participate in an annual mission team to Klintsy. Eight years ago, I flat out told some friends “I will never have the desire to go to Russia.” Seven years ago I said, “There’s no way I would spend my precious vacation time in a stranger’s home with no air conditioning, no electricity, no indoor plumbing!”

Six years ago, God called me to Russia and it changed my life.

In this past summer, as I first heard Erin bubbling with enthusiasm for her upcoming trip, once again, I thought to myself “Oh, I REALLY wouldn’t want to go to Guatemala.”

But just between us, after reading of Erin’s experience, I practically feel the seed planted. I can envision at some point God breaking my heart again to the suffering I cannot yet contemplate; when He turns my eyes off myself, to focus on others who are hurting but don’t have the luxury of waiting for their needs to be met.

There is a wonderful hymn by Bryan Jeffery Leech that's been stuck in my head all day that says it better than I can:

Let Your Heart Be Broken

Let your heart be broken for a world in need
Feed the mouths that hunger, soothe the wounds that bleed
Give the cup of water and the loaf of bread
Be the hands of Jesus, serving in his stead.

Here on earth, applying principles of love
Visible expression God still rules above
Living illustration of the Living Word
To the minds of all who've never seen and heard.

Blest to be a blessing, priveleged to care
Challenged by the need apparent everywhere
Where mankind is wanting, fill the vacant place
Be the means thru which the Lord reveals his grace.

Add to your believing deeds that prove it true
Knowing Christ as Savior, make Him Master too:
Follow in His footsteps, go where He has trod,
In the world's great trouble risk yourself for God.

Let your heart be tender and your vision clear
See mankind as God sees, serve Him far and near
Let you heart be broken by a brother's pain
Share your rich resources - give and give again.

I pray that God won't settle with allowing you to be oblivious to the suffering of others. I pray that He will break your heart in tender love too.

Blessings,
J

Girlfriend Community

My Sunday School lesson this week is on Living in Community. I have posted already about my girlfriends in The Sparkly Countenance of a Girlfriend. And more recently, I have written about community in Living Life Down A Little Gravel Road. However, I dedicate today’s post to my Sunday School Class and the bonds in our little community.

Every Sunday morning I am fortunate enough to gather with a wonderful group of women. We call ourselves the “Girlfriend” Class. The age of our members span the gamut from women in their 30’s to 50’s. Our class includes women in different stages of their lives; childless, small children, teenagers and adult children, members are single, married, divorced and widowed.

No matter the life circumstances, God brought us together, fellow sojourners to share the journey. We may be a varied group of women but we seek a common purpose, to become more like Christ.

The chairs in our room are arranged in a circle so we can see each other; and an added benefit, no one can hide in the back of the class. As I sit at my computer tonight and close my eyes, I imagine our class. It makes me smile as I picture each beautiful face. I love my Girlfriend Class; the women and the amazing community we have formed over the last several years.

The “Girlfriends” in our class are invested in each other; we share our lives, not just an hour on Sunday morning. We hold each other up in prayer and encourage one another. Our members rejoice together with good news, and weep together in times of sorrow. We are quick to give a hug, shoulder to lean on or a meal when it is needed.

Narrow is the road that leads to life. No one said it would be easy and sometimes the road is downright difficult to traverse. When I feel like giving up, I need a push from behind to keep me going. On the other hand, when I stray from the path and cannot find my way I require a helping hand from someone ahead of me. My Girlfriends are right along with me, we push and pull together, rooting each other on “toward the goal for which God has called us heavenward in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:14 NIV)

If you are a member of the Girlfriend Class I want you to know how I cherish you and thank God we share our journey together. If you are not a member, our class is always open to newcomers, we welcome anyone who is searching for community, Christian growth and to learn about, and receive God’s love.

1 Thessalonians 5:11 Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.

It's A Good Thing

Many, many moons ago, in a land far, far away I was a lonely freshman in college, 250 miles from my family. One day in my first semester I finished classes and rode the city bus to the mall. It’s hard to believe, but back in those days there were not any no-smoking bans. As I was sauntering around the mall I caught a whiff of pipe tobacco. It was the very same-smelling pipe tobacco that my dad smoked while I was growing up. It’s odd because my dad had quit smoking years before, but my brain held on to the association of him and the smell of that particular tobacco. I trailed behind the smoking man for a while just to have a sensory glimpse of something familiar, something from home.

Today, as I was leaving my office for an appointment I passed an elderly gentleman walking in the opposite direction who was smoking a pipe. It has been 20 years since my dad’s death, and many more years since he quit smoking his pipe. However, once a whisper of the aroma filled my nose I instinctively breathed deeply of that familiar scent and the memories flooded back.

My dad was a country boy who listened to classical music. He knew almost everything. Seriously. When the Trivial Pursuit boardgame came out he could win with one trip around the board; he got every question right, all the time. My love of obscure trivia is a gift from him. If my daughter Alex had known him, my own weirdness would wane in comparison. Although we thought it was normal to find him reading a tome from our set of Encyclopedia Britannica, or the dictionary. A little light reading, just for fun. Keep in mind this was way before the time of home computers and the internet.

He was irreverent, not the stuffy Cardiologist one might expect. I remember one time taking dinner to him at the hospital. He had on his usual, white coat and stethoscope draped around his neck. However, he also had a t-shirt with a big Superman emblem that showed underneath his white button down shirt and tie. And his socks never matched! My dad was color blind, but if you pointed out that one sock was blue and one was black, he would exclaim “I have another pair just like it at home!”
We lived in a nice quiet neighborhood, but my dad used to shoot his shotgun at midnight to welcome in the New Year, startling the neighbors. He put his stereo speakers in the open windows and piped John Philip Sousa marches while we raked leaves. And in the summer he could beat even my brothers with a bigger splash doing a cannonball into the pool.

My sister Susan loves to tell of a time he went to pick her up from high school. As she stood waiting for him among a throng of her classmates, dad drove up. He had our mother’s shoes tied together and slung over the rear view mirror. Another sister was on a date only to find a salmon patty he had hidden in her purse. Poor Bonny was the brunt of numerous practical jokes. He would have us little sisters short-sheet her bed, or what we called make a “pie” bed. Once he wrapped her toilet seat in plastic wrap. I don’t know where he came up with them, but he went through a stage of putting different critters on her bed.

I remember many of the silly things he used to do. More importantly I remember how he loved his family! His love for us was surpassed only by his love for God. He lived an exemplary Christian life which was modeled by Titus 2:7-8

In everything set them an example by doing what is good. In your teaching show integrity, seriousness and soundness of speech that cannot be condemned, so that those who oppose you may be ashamed because they have nothing bad to say about us.

I am thankful for my dad’s legacy of Christian love and kindness. To this day I still hear from his former patients how his gentle spirit ministered to them. The very manner in which he lived his life was a witness of God’s goodness. I’m also thankful that even a hint of pipe smoke brought forth a comforting sense of my dad for me this afternoon.

I know the sense of smell conveys powerful connections. As I stop and smell the roses - or pipe tobacco, in life, I should choose to reflect on the memories evoked that teach me to also become an example to others by doing what is good.

Philippians 4:8 Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things.

Living Life Down a Little Gravel Road

In my last post I mentioned that my mom, sisters, their families and mine, live down the same little gravel road. Yesterday my friend Jennifer responded to that post and sent an email to a small group of friends that said,
“I feel that way about you all - you know - friends are the family you choose for yourself”

My response, “But unfortunately, WE don't get to live all together on a private gravel road.... and that makes me sad.”

Jennifer: “Maybe someday we will all live together down a little gravel road in Florida near the beach and Cardinals' spring training camp!”

We all started thinking about living down a little gravel road together and decided that in the evenings we would sit on the front porch, drink ice tea and discuss the meaning of life, or maybe laugh and be silly and generally WOW ourselves with our fabulosity (see blog The Sparkly Countenance of a Girlfriend.) At any rate, what ever we talk about would be in person not via the internet like now.

If you read my last post you know that even though my family and I live close, we don’t often get to visit on each others’ front porches. We all stay busy and have to leave our little compound for work, church, shopping, errands, school and other activities. We can’t live our entire lives down the gravel road…..

Or can we?

Speaking metaphorically “living life down the gravel road” can signify living in community - or common unity. In that case I CAN live my entire life down the gravel road.

We are not meant to live in isolation.

Genesis 2:18 And the Lord Said “It is not good for the man to be alone.”

And thus, community was born of Adam’s rib.

All the way back to the Garden of Eden encouragement was an essential component to living in community, although I’m not too sure God was pleased that Eve encouraged Adam to eat of the tree of knowledge. And later, Moses provided continual encouragement to the Israelites for forty years as they wandered in the wilderness.

In Hebrews we are also instructed to “encourage one another.” It is a give-and-take commodity. As Bill Withers sang:

Lean on me, when you're not strong
And I'll be your friend
I'll help you carry on
For it won't be long
'Til I'm gonna need
Somebody to lean on.

Sometimes I am the lean-er; needing the support and encouragement of others in my communities. At other times I am the lean-ee, holding up others and cheering them on.

I am thankful to have communities that encourage and hold me up. I can remember a time when I was alone and lonely and that makes the fellowship I enjoy now all that much sweeter.

Hebrews 10:23-25 Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds. Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another–and all the more as you see the Day approaching.

The Tie That Binds

Boy am I tired! I’ve been putting in some long hours for work this past week, including Saturday and Labor Day Monday. However, Sunday, the Sabbath, I did rest. Well, maybe not rest exactly, but I didn’t work.

After church last Sunday, Phil and I joined my sister Susan, her husband Craig, and my sister Bonny - sans her husband Richard, who WAS working, in a short jaunt to a winery in Southern Illinois. Although Phil and I live on the same little private gravel road as Susan and Craig, and Bonny and Richard, (not to mention my mom and sister Kathy) there is never enough time to squeeze in any leisurely visitin’, so this was a rare treat.


We drove for about an hour, the boys in the front keeping up with the golf scores or the upcoming football game between UK and U of L. Or maybe they were listening in to us girls in the back while we were busy catching up with each others’ lives and kids - and of course, cute shoes.

It didn’t take long before we were turning off the highway and looking for Lick Creek Road. You know you’re in the midst of God’s country when you’re on a road named Lick Creek. We drove up a narrow, twisting road, keeping an eye out for the entrance into Blue Sky Winery.

After a short while we began to see vineyards dotting the countryside…And there it was, the Tuscan-style gate into the winding drive that led to the winery. As we drove in we could see the terracotta tiled roof atop the stone-looking façade of the building. The parking lot was full and we were directed to the supplemental parking next to long rows of net-covered grape vines.

As soon as we got out of the car we could hear guitar music, talking and laughing coming from the courtyard area. We made our way to the entrance and paid our $2 deposit for a wine glass, and $1 for five tokens allowing us the opportunity to taste up to five different wines. Folks were crowding around the bar where the bartenders were furiously pouring each allotted taste.

The indoor tables were taken so we made our way to the patio. It was a picturesque setting and a beautiful, if hot, day. Above our heads it was almost perfectly clear with only a few puffs of small clouds floating in the azure sky. The green grounds sloped down toward a pond. There was a lovely little portico overlooking the water, and a bit further was a rock feature with a peaceful waterfall.



The winery was a picturesque place to spend the afternoon. But for us, or at least for me, it wasn’t about the surroundings, or the wine, it was about hanging out together. Being with my family is so comfortable. There is constant current that keeps us connected, in sync with each other so conversation is always easy and the only effort required is in trying to outdo each other with inside jokes.

Here is my nerdiness raring it’s head; I love my family and I truly enjoy spending time with them. There is no need for us to have false pretenses. We know each other too well to be fooled by masks we often try to hide behind. But more importantly, masks are not needed. With my family I am free to be myself and still be confident of their unwavering love, as I too love each of them unconditionally.

I was sorry to see the afternoon end so quickly. It’s hard to leave a party when you’re still having fun. It made me think of a hymn that we sing at our church from time to time:

Blessed be the tie that binds,
Our hearts in Christian love.
The fellowship of kindred minds
Is like to that above.

When we asunder part,
It gives us inward pain;
But we shall still be joined in heart,
And hope to meet again.

Wouldn’t it be lovely for everyone to love, and be loved in this same manner?

And then God sent me a little “thwack” across my mind, as He does from time to time to get my attention. I know this kind of love sounds impossible and in our small human minds it is. Yet that’s exactly what God calls us to do. God is the tie that binds our hearts in Christian love, and knowing that, the fellowship we all share together should be like to that above.

John 15:9-12 (NIV) As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father's commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.