love

Loving What God Loves, Hating What God Hates

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Psalm 97 is a song of joy and awe. Yet tucked inside this praise is a verse that can trouble modern readers

“The Lord loves those who hate evil;
he preserves the lives of his saints
and delivers them from the hand of the wicked.” (Psalm 97:10)

At first hearing, this can sound conditional—almost as if God’s love depends on our moral purity. But when read alongside the broader witness of Scripture, Psalm 97:10 is not about exclusion; it is about alignment.

Love That Refuses What Destroys

In the biblical imagination, evil is never merely personal wrongdoing. Evil is whatever distorts God’s good creation—violence, injustice, exploitation, deceit, and idolatry. To “hate evil” is not to hate people, but to refuse participation in what destroys life and community.

God’s love, then, is not passive or sentimental. It is protective and faithful. God loves those who stand against evil because they are standing with God’s own desire for wholeness and justice. Psalm 97 reminds us that divine love is inseparable from God’s commitment to preserve life and oppose what threatens it.

Wisdom at the Heart of Creation

Proverbs 8 deepens this vision by introducing us to Wisdom, poetically portrayed as present with God from the very beginning:

“When he established the heavens, I was there…
rejoicing before him always.” (Proverbs 8:27, 30)

Wisdom is not an afterthought or a moral add-on. Wisdom is woven into the fabric of creation itself. To live wisely is to live in harmony with how God has made the world to flourish.

Christians have long heard echoes of Jesus in this passage. The Gospel of John proclaims Christ as the eternal Word through whom all things came into being. While Proverbs 8 does not yet articulate Trinitarian theology, it prepares us to recognize that God’s love, order, and creative purpose are eternal.

Evil, then, is not simply “breaking rules.” It is living against the grain of Wisdom. To hate evil is to cherish the life-giving design God has placed at the heart of the world.

Love Given Flesh and Feet

John 13 brings all of this into the intimacy of human relationship. On the night before his death, Jesus tells his disciples:

“Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.
By this everyone will know that you are my disciples.” (John 13:34–35)

Here, love is no longer abstract. It has a face, hands, and feet. Jesus has just washed his disciples’ feet—including the feet of the one who will betray him. This is not love that ignores evil. Jesus names betrayal, injustice, and violence clearly. But he confronts evil without surrendering to hatred.

This is the fulfillment of Psalm 97, not its contradiction. Jesus shows us how to hate evil without hating people. He resists evil not by destroying his enemies, but by refusing to become what evil demands.

One Love, One Story

Taken together, these Scriptures tell a single story:

  • Psalm 97 proclaims a God whose love opposes what destroys life.
  • Proverbs 8 reveals that this love is rooted in the very structure of creation.
  • John 13 shows us that this love is lived out through self-giving relationship.

To love as God loves is to stand against injustice, violence, and lies while remaining committed to compassion, mercy, and humility. It is to refuse both cruelty and indifference.

A Prayer for Our Day

God of wisdom and love,
Teach us to love what you love
and to resist what destroys your good creation.
Give us courage to hate evil without losing compassion,
and grace to love one another as Christ has loved us.
Shape our lives by your wisdom
and mark us as your disciples by our love.
Amen.

Beloved, Let Us Love: A Christmas Eve Devotional on 1 John 4:7–16

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On Christmas Eve, we gather at the edge of mystery. The lights glow softly, familiar carols stir memory and hope, and we hear again the astonishing claim of the Christian faith: God is love. Not love as sentiment or slogan, but love made flesh—born into the world in Jesus. Few passages name this truth more simply or more boldly than 1 John 4:7–16.

“Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God.”
John does not begin with a command but with an identity. We are beloved—already loved before we do anything right or wrong. Love does not originate in us; it flows from God. That means Christian love is not something we manufacture by effort or willpower. It is something we receive and then pass on.

At Christmas, we celebrate that God’s love did not remain distant or abstract. “God’s love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him.” Love took on skin and breath. Love cried in a manger. Love entered the vulnerability of human life—not to condemn it, but to heal it.

This is crucial for our time. We live in a world saturated with fear, division, and loud certainty. Love is often reduced to agreement or affection for those who think like us. But John insists that real love is defined by God’s action, not our preferences. “In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins.” Love begins with God’s initiative, God’s mercy, God’s self-giving.

That means love is not earned. It is not deserved. It is given.

On Christmas Eve, this truth confronts both our pride and our shame. For those who feel self-sufficient, it reminds us that we are saved not by our goodness but by God’s grace. For those who feel unworthy, it proclaims that God’s love has already moved toward us—before we cleaned ourselves up, before we had it all figured out.

John then turns the light toward us: “Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another.” This is not a moral burden laid on tired shoulders. It is an invitation to live out what is already true. If God’s love abides in us, it will take shape in our relationships—in patience, forgiveness, compassion, and courage.

Notice what John does not say. He does not say we must agree with one another on everything. He does not say love is easy or sentimental. He does not say love avoids conflict. He says love is the evidence of God’s presence. “No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us.”

In other words, the invisible God becomes visible through love. The world sees God not primarily through our arguments or institutions, but through lives shaped by Christlike love.

This is especially meaningful on Christmas Eve. The child in the manger cannot speak yet, cannot teach yet, cannot perform miracles yet. But God has already spoken clearly: This is what love looks like. Vulnerable. Near. Given for others.

John goes even further: “God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them.” To abide is to remain, to dwell, to make a home. On this holy night, we remember that God has chosen to make a home with us—and invites us to make our home in love.

As we stand on the threshold of Christmas, 1 John 4 calls us back to the heart of the faith. Not fear, but love. Not exclusion, but abiding. Not proving ourselves, but receiving grace and sharing it freely.

So tonight, as candles are lit and prayers are whispered, may we rest in this truth:
We are loved. God is love. And because of Christmas, that love has come to dwell among us.

May that love shape our words, soften our judgments, heal our divisions, and guide us into the coming year—beloved, loving, and abiding in God.

In Honor of My Mother, Lelia Hilda McGill, On What Would Be Her 112th Birthday

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On November 20, 2025, my mother, Lelia Hilda McGill, would have turned 112 years old. Though she has been gone for many years, her life, strength, and remarkable spirit continue to shape me every single day. This is my tribute to the woman who gave me life—and taught me how to live it.

A Childhood Marked by Hardship

Mother, Me, and Stephen, my son

Mama was born in Eucutta, Mississippi, one of seven children in a rural family that worked hard for everything they had. At just seven years old, her life was shaken by a tragedy that would have broken many people: her father was killed in a fight with his own brother over a cow. My great-uncle threw the hub of a wagon wheel that struck my grandfather, and sepsis took his life soon after.

With her mother overwhelmed and resources scarce, Mama was passed from relative to relative, never having a place to truly call home. Finally, at age thirteen, she was placed in a reformatory school. She stayed until the ninth grade, then left to work as a maid.

Life did not deal her an easy hand—but she kept showing up, kept working, and kept believing that something better was possible.

A Love Story Born in Unexpected Places

Mama met my father while working in the home where he was boarding. Daddy was forty—a widower whose wife had died from stomach cancer. Mama was nineteen. Their courtship lasted just three weeks. They married quickly, and their first home was a railroad car, because Daddy was an engineer on the Dummy Rail Line for the Wausau Lumber Company.

Daddy was also an alcoholic, but Mama was a woman of deep faith. Raised in the Eucutta Presbyterian Church, she was religious, steady, and firm in her convictions. She eventually put her foot down: if he wanted a family with her, the drinking had to end. And it did. Slowly, Daddy began attending church, and eventually he became a preacher.

Her faith didn’t just change her life—it changed his.

A Life of Work, Sacrifice, and Love

Mama and Daddy bought a farm and raised five children. I was the youngest of the bunch. Life on the farm was hard, and Daddy, for all the changes he made, could still be abusive—physically and mentally. Mama endured more than any woman should have to. But she endured it with strength, and she gave her five children steady love, safety, and encouragement.

She worked in the fields, kept the house spotless, cooked for the whole family, and somehow managed to keep joy alive in our home. To this day, I can almost smell her banana pudding, pineapple pudding, and fruit cobblers baking in the oven. Her biscuits were soft, warm, and unforgettable. She used to tell us, “We might be poor, but we can be clean,” and she lived that motto out every day.

Mama hummed and sang while she worked, her voice drifting through the house like a gentle balm. Her favorite hymns were What a Friend We Have in Jesus, In the Garden, and The Old Rugged Cross. Those songs became the soundtrack of my childhood—and the anchor of her soul.

For many years, she never drove. But when Daddy died—when I was fourteen—she got her driver’s license and went to work to support our family. She became a nurse’s aide at the charity hospital, and later a dorm mother at a school for the mentally handicapped. She poured herself into those children, teaching them how to take care of themselves. She won awards for her work, but the real reward was the dignity and compassion she gave her students.

A New Home and a New Season

In her seventies, Mama bought herself a three-bedroom brick house—a dream she had worked toward for decades. That house was her pride and joy. She kept the yard full of flowers, just as she kept her heart full of laughter and faith. She read her Scofield Bible faithfully and never missed church. No matter how hard her life had been, she always found something positive to say.

And her smile—her smile could light up a room.

The Final Years

In her mid-eighties, Mama suffered a fall that caused bleeding in her brain, which led to dementia. Even then, the tenderness she had lived her whole life with seemed to shine through the fog. She would look at me with that same gentle expression—the one that had carried me through childhood, adolescence, and adulthood.

Mama always allowed me to make my own decisions. And when a choice didn’t turn out well, she never said, “I told you so.” Instead, she’d simply say,

“Learn from it and grow.”

That was her way—grace always over judgment, patience always over anger, and love always over fear.

I Miss Her

As I look back on her life—her childhood pain, her resilience, her faith, her laughter, her songs, her sacrifices, her quiet wisdom—I realize how much of who I am came from who she was.

I miss her deeply. But I carry her with me: in the choices I make, in the love I give, and in the hope I hold onto when life gets hard.

Happy heavenly birthday, Mama.
Your legacy lives on—in me, in our family, and in all the people whose lives you touched.

Growing Up on a Farm in Greene County, Mississippi: The Foundation of My Life

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A reflection by Roy Pearson

I grew up on a small farm in rural Greene County, Mississippi, during the 1950s—a world far removed from the conveniences and noise that surround us today. Ours was a life of hard work, simple pleasures, deep roots, and lessons that would quietly shape the direction of my entire life. I was the youngest of five children: Sue (1935), George (1937), Ted (1940), and Hilda (1946) came before me. I arrived in 1949, the last one in a long line of siblings who were already seasoned farmhands by the time I learned to walk.

My parents’ story began long before I was born. Mama was just 19 and Daddy was 40 when they married in 1933. Their first home wasn’t a farmhouse at all—it was an old railroad car in the Wausau Lumber Company Camp. Daddy worked as an engineer on the rails that hauled logs to the big sawmill in Laurel, Mississippi. It was a humble beginning, but it was theirs. And like so many families of that generation, they built a life out of grit, faith, and whatever the land would give them.

By the time I was two or three, Daddy bought a farm in Greene County. That farm became the world where my childhood unfolded. We raised a huge garden, not only to feed ourselves but to ship vegetables to farmers’ markets around the nation. We tended cotton, watermelons, corn, and sugar cane. We kept milk cows, pigs, and chickens. There was always something to be done, something growing, something needing attention. Life on the farm had a way of teaching responsibility before a boy could even spell the word.

I was curious from the very beginning—always exploring, always asking questions—even though I had one significant fear: snakes. We had a creek running through our property, and Hilda and I often spent our summer days there. She swam; I only waded, keeping a wary eye out for anything that slithered. One day I caught what I thought was a snake on my fishing pole. I dropped the pole, ran home in a panic, and breathlessly announced that a snake was attacking my line. Daddy and my siblings followed me back—only to find an eel thrashing at the end of my hook. I became the object of teasing for days, but the story still makes me smile.

My imagination grew alongside my curiosity. Daddy always seemed to have spare lumber lying around, and my friend Danny and I “borrowed” some to build a church of our own. We managed to hammer together a floor, but the walls never materialized. I appointed myself the preacher and delivered sermons to Danny with all the seriousness I could muster. I was only mimicking Daddy’s style—strong, simple, and steady—but I had no idea that preaching would eventually become my calling after Daddy passed away when I was just fourteen.

Some of my earliest memories are of accompanying Daddy to funerals. He had only a fourth-grade education, yet he carried a gift for preaching that came straight from the heart. His sermons rarely lasted more than twenty minutes—he believed the Word didn’t need embellishing. Mama had a much harder time keeping me still in church; her pinches were legendary. But even while squirming in the pew, I listened. I watched Daddy minister to families in their grief. I observed his compassion, his humility, and the respect he earned from those he served.

Those nine years on the farm were more than a childhood—they were seeds quietly planted in the soil of my life. Farming teaches you to look closely, to ask questions, to search for answers in the rhythms of nature and the wisdom of those who came before you. It teaches you patience, perseverance, and faith. And it taught me to love learning—to look beneath the surface of things, both in the world around me and in the Scriptures that would shape my future ministry.

Looking back now, I see clearly that the creeks, the cotton fields, the vegetable rows, the old lumber scraps, and even the fear of snakes were part of the foundation God was laying in my life. The farm raised more than crops—it raised a boy who would one day become a pastor, a seeker, a teacher, and a lifelong student of truth.

Those early years in Greene County remain some of the richest soil my life has ever known.

Living Honestly Before God and People: A Reflection on 1 Thessalonians 5:21–22

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“Prove all things; hold fast that which is good. Abstain from all appearance of evil.” — 1 Thessalonians 5:21–22 (KJV)

The Apostle Paul’s closing words to the Thessalonians serve as a timeless call to discernment, integrity, and holiness. He encourages believers to “prove all things”—to test what is true, genuine, and godly—and then to “hold fast that which is good.” This means not simply accepting everything we hear or see, but measuring all things by the Word of God. In doing so, we learn to avoid not only evil itself, but even the appearance of evil.

In our day, when deception, compromise, and moral confusion abound, Paul’s words are a needed reminder that followers of Christ are called to live transparently—honestly before God and man.

Providing Things Honest in the Sight of All Men

Paul also wrote in Romans 12:17 and 2 Corinthians 8:21:

“Provide things honest in the sight of all men.”

This means that our conduct should not only be right before God, but also appear right before others. The integrity of a Christian life is seen in how we handle our relationships, our finances, and our responsibilities. When we deal truthfully—with our words, our money, and our promises—we reflect the character of Christ to a watching world.

In a time when dishonesty, manipulation, and cutting corners have become normalized, God still calls His people to be examples of righteousness. Our lives are living testimonies. When others see consistency between what we say and what we do, they are drawn to the truth we profess.

Owe No One Anything But to Love

Paul continues this theme in Romans 13:8:

“Owe no man any thing, but to love one another.”

This verse speaks to more than just financial debt; it touches every area of human relationship. We are not to carry unresolved obligations—whether emotional, moral, or spiritual. Our only ongoing “debt” should be love, because love fulfills the law of Christ.

Living in love means being responsible, truthful, and faithful in all dealings. It means we do not take advantage of others, nor do we live in a way that brings reproach upon the name of Jesus. Whether in business, friendship, or family life, our goal is to demonstrate the kind of love that seeks another’s good above our own.

How This Applies to Our Lives Today

In a world of shifting standards and blurred morality, these scriptures call us back to simple, steadfast principles:

  1. Discernment – Test every teaching, motive, and decision against God’s Word before accepting it as truth.
  2. Integrity – Live honestly and transparently, ensuring that your actions reflect your faith both privately and publicly.
  3. Responsibility – Fulfill your obligations—financial, moral, and relational—with diligence and honor.
  4. Love – Let love be the guiding motive in all things. Even when the world fails to act in love, God’s people must not.

When we live this way, we not only protect our testimony but also become lights shining in a darkened world. Our lives then point others to the faithfulness and goodness of God.

A Closing Prayer

Lord, help me to walk in truth, to prove all things by Your Word, and to hold fast to what is good. Teach me to live honestly before You and before others, and to owe no one anything but love. May my life reflect Your light and bring glory to Your name. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

🌿 “Restore Us, O God”: A Reflection on Psalm 80

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A Reflection by Roy Pearson on Psalm 80, the Psalter for November 10, 2025

Scripture Reading:

“Restore us, O God;
let your face shine, that we may be saved.”
— Psalm 80:3 (NRSV)

Introduction

Psalm 80 is a heartfelt cry from a wounded nation longing for God’s presence once again. Written by Asaph, this psalm captures Israel’s deep grief over national suffering and spiritual decline. It’s not only a prayer of lament but a plea for renewal — a longing for God to shine His light again upon His people.

Though written centuries ago, its message speaks powerfully to us today. It reminds us that when our lives, our communities, or even our nations feel broken and distant from God, the path forward begins with repentance, humility, and a heartfelt cry for restoration.

1. God, Our Shepherd (Verses 1–3)

“Give ear, O Shepherd of Israel… Restore us, O God; let your face shine, that we may be saved.”

Israel addresses God as their Shepherd — the one who guides, protects, and provides. The people feel lost, but they remember who He is. They ask for His face to “shine” upon them, echoing the priestly blessing of Numbers 6:24–26: “The Lord make His face shine upon you and be gracious to you.”

Today: We too can pray for the light of God’s presence to shine into the dark corners of our lives. When we feel unseen, unheard, or spiritually dry, we can call on the same Shepherd to guide us back to safety.

2. Tears of Sorrow (Verses 4–7)

“You have fed them with the bread of tears, and given them tears to drink in full measure.”

The psalmist recognizes that God has allowed hardship to come upon His people — not to destroy them, but to call them back. Their suffering becomes the soil in which repentance can grow.

Today: Our tears, too, can become prayers. In seasons of loss, conflict, or confusion, God invites us to seek His face rather than run from His correction. Through our brokenness, He prepares the ground for renewal.

3. The Broken Vine (Verses 8–13)

“You brought a vine out of Egypt; you drove out the nations and planted it.”

God had planted Israel like a vine in the Promised Land, meant to bear fruit for His glory. But now, the vine is broken, unprotected, and ravaged by enemies.

Today: The Church is God’s vine in our time. When we drift from His Word, when love grows cold, or when we forget our purpose, the vineyard suffers. Yet Jesus reminds us in John 15:5, “I am the vine; you are the branches.” True fruitfulness comes only when we remain in Him.

4. The Plea for Revival (Verses 14–19)

“Turn again, O God of hosts! Look down from heaven, and see… Then we shall not turn back from you; give us life, and we will call upon your name.”

The psalm ends with a repeated refrain:

“Restore us, O Lord God of hosts; let your face shine, that we may be saved.”

This is more than a wish for better days — it’s a plea for spiritual revival. Israel longs not only for relief but for renewal of faith and purpose.

Today: Psalm 80 becomes our own prayer for revival — in our hearts, our homes, our churches, and our world. We ask God to breathe new life into His people, to restore joy, unity, and holiness, and to heal our land.

Living Psalm 80 Today

  • Personally: Ask God to restore the joy of your salvation. (Psalm 51:12)
  • In the Church: Pray for renewal — that believers would return to genuine faith, humility, and love.
  • In the World: Intercede for nations torn by conflict and sin, that God’s mercy might bring peace and transformation.

When we cry out, “Restore us, O God,” we join a long line of faithful people who refused to give up on God’s mercy — and He never fails those who turn to Him with a humble heart.

Closing Prayer

Shepherd of Israel,
Shine Your face upon us again.
Restore what is broken in our hearts and in our world.
Where we have drifted, bring us back.
Where we are weary, renew our strength.
Where we have grown cold, rekindle our love for You.
Turn our tears into joy and our weakness into worship.
Restore us, O God of hosts; let Your face shine,
that we may be saved.
Amen.

Reflections on The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran: A Christian Perspective

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by Roy Pearson

Introduction:
Every generation seeks wisdom that speaks to both the heart and the soul. Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet has done exactly that for nearly a century — offering poetic reflections on love, work, freedom, and faith. As a follower of Jesus, I recently revisited this timeless masterpiece and found that, while its message is not rooted in the Gospel, it still carries echoes of divine truth that point us toward the Creator. This reflection explores the meaning of The Prophet, how it speaks to our modern world, and how it compares to the message of the Bible.

The Meaning of The Prophet

At its core, The Prophet invites us to see life as sacred and interconnected. Through the voice of Almustafa, Gibran teaches that joy and sorrow, light and darkness, and love and loss are all part of one divine rhythm. He writes, “Your joy is your sorrow unmasked,” suggesting that the depth of our pain is often the measure of our capacity to love.

Each theme — from love and marriage to work and death — encourages balance and reverence. Gibran calls us to live with open hearts, to see beauty in the ordinary, and to recognize the divine presence that flows through every aspect of life.

The Relevance of The Prophet in Our World Today

Our modern world is filled with noise, division, and distraction. We rush through days without reflection and mistake productivity for purpose. In this chaos, Gibran’s message whispers gently: slow down, breathe, and live with intention.

When he writes, “Work is love made visible,” we’re reminded that our daily tasks — no matter how small — can be sacred acts when done with love. His teaching that “love gives naught but itself” challenges a culture obsessed with possession and control, calling us instead to a love that is free, generous, and selfless — the very love that Christ demonstrated on the cross.

In a restless world, The Prophet invites us to rediscover the peace that comes from simplicity, gratitude, and compassion.

Comparing The Prophet to the Message of the Bible

While The Prophet resonates with spiritual beauty, its foundation differs from that of the Bible. Gibran’s spirituality is mystical and universal — seeing God in all things and all people — but it lacks the personal relationship and redemptive power found in Jesus Christ.

Gibran’s prophet speaks of enlightenment — an awakening of the soul to divine truth. The Bible speaks of transformation through grace — the renewing of the mind and heart by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Scripture declares, “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation” (2 Corinthians 5:17). This transformation is not achieved through human insight but received as a gift of God’s mercy.

So while we can celebrate the beauty of Gibran’s poetic vision, we recognize that its deepest fulfillment is found only in the living Word — Jesus Christ, the Way, the Truth, and the Life (John 14:6).

What a Follower of Jesus Can Learn from The Prophet

As a believer, I find The Prophet to be a meaningful companion to reflection — not as a source of doctrine, but as a lens that heightens our appreciation for God’s handiwork. It reminds us that all of life — its joys, struggles, and labors — can become offerings of praise when given to God.

When read through the light of Scripture, Gibran’s words encourage gentleness, gratitude, and awareness of God’s beauty in creation. Yet our ultimate peace comes not from poetic wisdom, but from the living relationship we have with Christ.

As Jesus said, “Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in Me” (John 15:4).

In Christ, all truth and beauty find their eternal home.

A Prayer Inspired by The Prophet and the Word of God

Heavenly Father,
Thank You for the wisdom You have sown throughout creation and for the voices that help us see Your presence in all things.
As I reflect on The Prophet, help me to love deeply, work joyfully, and live with compassion and humility.

Teach me to see Your divine hand in every part of life — in joy and in sorrow, in rest and in labor.
Let my heart be filled with gratitude for the beauty around me and the people You have placed in my life.

Most of all, draw me ever closer to Your Son, Jesus Christ, the true source of light and love.
May my life become “love made visible,”
and may every word and action reflect Your grace.

In the name of Jesus, Amen.

A Closing Blessing

May the peace of Christ dwell richly within you.
May His love guide your thoughts, His truth shape your words, and His Spirit strengthen your heart.
May you see God’s presence in the simple moments — in work well done, in laughter shared, in tears redeemed.
And may your life shine as a reflection of the One who is Love itself.

“The Lord bless you and keep you;
the Lord make His face shine upon you and be gracious to you;
the Lord turn His face toward you and give you peace.” — Numbers 6:24–26

Loving God with all we are

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In December of 1964, at just fourteen years old, I preached my very first sermon at Lee’s Chapel Free Will Baptist Church near Laurel, Mississippi. The text I chose was Mark 12:30-31:

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.
The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’
There is no commandment greater than these.”

I remember standing in that little country church, nervous and excited, trying my best to share God’s Word. Afterward, my Uncle Cleo, who was married to my Aunt Bess (my dad’s sister), told me I had delivered a good sermon — but if I had slowed down a little, he might have actually understood what I said!

At the time, I didn’t realize how deeply these verses would shape my life. Over the years, I’ve come to understand that this commandment isn’t just about feelings or words. It’s about giving our whole selves to God — our heart, soul, mind, and strength — and letting that love spill over to others.

Loving God with All Your Heart

The heart is where love begins. It’s the seat of our emotions and desires.
To love God with our heart means giving Him our deepest affections and loyalty. It’s not a half-hearted love, but one that says, “Lord, You come first in my life.”

This is where many of us struggle. Our hearts can get divided between God and the things of this world. Loving God with all our heart is a daily choice to make Him our priority — to let His love shape how we feel, what we value, and how we treat others.

Loving God with All Your Soul

The soul represents our very being — the essence of who we are.
To love God with all our soul means surrendering our entire life to Him. It’s saying, “Here I am, Lord. Use me for Your purposes.”

This isn’t just about Sunday morning worship. It’s about living every moment as an act of devotion. Whether we’re at work, at home, or serving in our community, we honor God with our lives. Loving Him with our soul means we are His — completely and forever.

Loving God with All Your Mind

Our thoughts matter. What we think about shapes who we are.
Loving God with our mind means filling it with His truth, His Word, and His wisdom. It means studying Scripture, reflecting on His promises, and rejecting the lies that try to pull us away from Him.

When we love God with our mind, we seek to understand His ways. We let His Word guide our decisions and shape how we see the world. In a world filled with confusion and competing voices, this kind of love brings clarity and peace.

Loving God with All Your Strength

Finally, loving God with our strength is about action.
It’s about using our energy, abilities, and resources to serve Him and others. This love isn’t just felt or thought about — it’s lived out.

Whether we’re helping a neighbor, caring for family, volunteering at church, or standing up for justice, our strength is a gift we give back to God. It’s how love becomes visible and tangible in the world.

The Second Commandment: Loving Others

Jesus didn’t stop at loving God. He added, “Love your neighbor as yourself.”
True love for God always flows outward into love for others.

This is often where the real challenge comes. Loving people can be messy, difficult, and sometimes even painful. But when we love God fully, His love gives us the strength to love others — even when it’s hard, even when they don’t love us back.

A Lifelong Journey

As I look back on that December Sunday in 1964, I realize how much I’ve grown — and how much I still have to learn. Loving God with my heart, soul, mind, and strength isn’t something I mastered at fourteen, or even now. It’s a lifelong journey.

Every day, we have new opportunities to love Him more deeply and to love others more fully. And when we do, we find the very purpose of our existence — to be vessels of His love in a world that desperately needs it.

So today, take a moment to ask yourself:

  • Am I loving God with my whole heart?
  • Is my soul surrendered to Him?
  • Are my thoughts filled with His truth?
  • Am I using my strength to serve others?

These are the questions that can shape not only our faith, but also our legacy. Just as that verse shaped my first sermon, may it shape your life — now and always.

Porchlights and Fireflies: A Song That Took Me Back Home

The Curious PilgrimLeave a comment

The first nine years of my life were spent on a small farm in rural Greene County, Mississippi. Life was simple, and by today’s standards, some might even say primitive. We didn’t have a telephone or television, and there was no central heat or air conditioning. Our “running water” came from the well in our front yard, and our bathroom was a little outhouse tucked away under the trees.

Mom washed our clothes in a big cast iron pot over an open fire, scrubbing them clean by hand before hanging them on the barbed wire fence to dry in the sun. Our home was small but full of love and laughter. The front room, where my parents slept, also held the fireplace that kept us warm through cold Mississippi winters. There was no couch or sofa — just a few chairs and the warmth of family gathered close.

My sisters, Sue and Hilda, shared a bed in one room, while my brothers, George and Ted, and I shared a double bed in another. The kitchen was the heart of the home, with a wood stove for cooking and a table big enough for all of us to gather around for meals.

When we weren’t in school, we were working in the fields. Our little farm produced cotton, watermelons, sugar cane, and a huge garden that fed us year-round. It was hard work, but it taught me the value of family and perseverance.

Evenings were the sweetest part of the day. In the summertime, we sat on the front porch and talked while the world around us grew quiet. My older brothers and sisters told ghost stories that scared me half to death — and yet, I wouldn’t have traded those nights for anything. When darkness settled in, we chased lightning bugs across the yard or dug for worms to take fishing in the creek that ran nearby.

In the winter, we gathered around the fireplace, visiting and talking while the wood crackled and popped. Life was hard, but it was also filled with moments of warmth and togetherness that shaped who I am today.

Recently, I heard Michael DuBois’ song Porchlights and Fireflies, and it carried me straight back to those days on the farm. The lyrics painted pictures in my mind of long summer evenings, simple living, and the magic of a childhood spent close to nature and family.

Listening to that song, I could almost smell the wood smoke from our fireplace and feel the cool Mississippi night air on my skin. I remembered the sound of the screen door slamming, the laughter of my siblings, and the glow of lightning bugs dancing through the dark.

Times have certainly changed. We have conveniences now that my younger self couldn’t have even imagined — smartphones, streaming TV, air conditioning, and indoor plumbing. But Michael DuBois’ song reminded me that some things never change. The love of family, the bond of shared stories, and the beauty of a summer night under the stars are timeless.

Every time I hear Porchlights and Fireflies, I am reminded of those early years — a boy running barefoot through the grass, free and full of wonder. And for a moment, I am home again.

A Tribute to Michael DuBois

Michael DuBois is a singer-songwriter who channels raw emotion into acoustic-driven, heartfelt country-folk music. His YouTube channel prominently features Porch Lights and Fireflies, alongside other singles like We Were August and Sunset Season YouTube+1.

His song Porch Lights and Fireflies is a recent release (2025), available on platforms like Apple Music as a standalone single Apple Music – Web PlayerSpotify. The YouTube video for the song has gained traction, showcasing DuBois’s storytelling style and earnest vocals YouTube+1

Thank you, Michael, for taking me back to the farm that I wanted to leave but now cherish what i learned and cherished there.

Selfless Love

The Curious PilgrimLeave a comment

Selfless love is at the heart of discipleship and spiritual growth. Here’s how it is often understood:

1. Rooted in Christ’s Example

Jesus embodied agapē love — the Greek word for unconditional, sacrificial love. He reached out to the marginalized, forgave enemies, healed the sick, and gave himself fully for others without asking what he would gain in return. Selfless love follows that same pattern: giving without needing repayment.

2. Seeing the Other as Sacred

Selfless love recognizes the inherent worth and dignity of every person as a child of God. It calls us to treat others not as means to an end but as beloved ends in themselves, whether they are friend, stranger, or even adversary.

3. Letting Go of Ego and Control

It means loosening our grip on pride, entitlement, or the need to always be right. Instead, we listen, serve, and enter into relationships with humility, seeking the flourishing of others as much as our own.

4. Practical Expressions

  • Offering kindness without expecting thanks.
  • Standing up for justice even when it costs us comfort or privilege.
  • Forgiving when we have every right to stay angry.
  • Caring for the earth, future generations, and communities we may never see.

5. A Lifelong Practice

Selfless love is not about erasing one’s own needs or boundaries (which can lead to unhealthy sacrifice), but about living in a way where compassion and generosity guide decisions. It’s a balance of caring for oneself and making room for the well-being of others.

✨ In short: selfless love is love that seeks the good of the other, without calculation, fear, or reward, flowing from the heart of God through us.

Daily Practice for Cultivating Selfless Love

Morning Intention (2 minutes):
When you wake, place your hand over your heart and pray something like:
“God of love, let me be a channel of compassion today. Help me to see others with Your eyes.”

Daily Awareness (throughout the day):
Choose one small act of selfless love each day. Examples:

  • Speak a kind word to someone who seems overlooked.
  • Offer your patience in a long line or with a difficult person.
  • Send a message of encouragement with no expectation of reply.
  • Refrain from gossip or judgment and instead offer silent blessing.

Evening Reflection (5 minutes):
Before bed, pause and ask yourself:

  • Where did I practice selfless love today?
  • Where did I miss the opportunity?
  • Tomorrow, how can I open my heart more?

Close with gratitude, knowing each step (big or small) builds the habit of living in Christ’s love.

A Daily Litany of Selfless Love

Leader (you):
Gracious God, awaken my heart to Your love this day.

Response (you or silently):
Let me love without counting the cost.

Leader:
When I am tempted to act from pride or selfishness,
Response:
Teach me humility and gentleness.

Leader:
When I encounter the stranger, the overlooked, or the hurting,
Response:
Let me see Your image in them.

Leader:
When fear or anger rises within me,
Response:
Fill me with patience and compassion.

Leader:
May my words bring kindness,
my hands bring service,
and my presence bring peace.

All (you):
God of boundless mercy,
make me a vessel of selfless love today.
Amen.