Friends,
Picture the Upper Room after supper dishes are pushed aside and sandal-dust still clings to everyone’s feet. Judas has slipped out into the night, tension hangs in the lamplight, and Jesus leans in with what sounds like a last will and testament: “Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another” (John 13 : 31-35).
Notice what he doesn’t say. He doesn’t assign titles—no chair of the board, chief volunteer, expert parent, or perfect believer. He speaks identity that runs deeper than any role: you are my own because you dwell in the current of my love, and that current must keep flowing. It’s a way of life, not a badge on a lanyard.
So this week, pay attention to the ordinary places that invite a quiet act of love—a listening ear in a checkout line, a patient reply to a terse email, a casserole left on a doorstep with no card needed. Each unnoticed kindness stitches our shared identity a little tighter, until the world looks at this patchwork crowd we call church and recognizes the signature of Jesus sewn through every thread.
Bring a story of where you saw that love in motion, and I’ll share where I’ve seen the same on my time away as well. Join me as celebrate the identity we’re still learning to wear.
I can’t wait to see you!
Alex+