We have control over our prayer life, our relationship with Jesus.
Francis ChanRead
People who are obsessed with Jesus do not consider service a burden. Obsessed people take joy in loving God by loving His people (Mt 13:44)(Jn 15:8).
Interpretation
True devotion to Jesus inspires joyful service to others.
This quote emphasizes that those who are truly devoted to Jesus find fulfillment and joy in serving others, seeing it not as a burden but as a loving expression of their faith. It highlights the transformative power of love and obsession with God, which motivates believers to actively care for and support their fellow human beings.
In practice
In a sermon about community service, one could use this quote to encourage attendees to engage more in helping their neighbors.
We have control over our prayer life, our relationship with Jesus.
A disciple is a disciple maker.
Don't fall into the trap of studying the Bible without doing what it says.
Our God listens to us. Our God is a living God. He's not a block of wood you made up that's not going to answer you. My God listens to me. He answers me.
...I don't have to worry about not meeting His expectations. God will ensure my success in accordance with His plan, not mine.
People who are obsessed with Jesus aren't consumed with their personal safety and comfort above all else. Obsessed people care more about God's kingdom coming to this earth than their own lives being shielded from pain or distress.
In this is love, not that we loved God but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.
Love cannot be had for the asking; it comes only as a gift from the heart of another
Love is a kind of dementia with very precise and oft-repeated clinical symptoms. You blush in each other's presence, you both hover in places where you expect the other to pass, you are both a little tongue-tied, you both laugh inexplicably and too long, you become quite nauseatingly girlish, and he becomes quite ridiculously gallant. You have also grown a little stupid.
It was as if a morning-glory had bloomed in her throat, and all that blue and small pollen ate into my heart, violent and religious
There is nothing holier in this life of ours than the first consciousness of love, the first fluttering of its silken wings.
A soul trembling to sit by a hearth so bright, To exist again, itβs enough if I borrow from Your lips the breath of my name you murmur all night.
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