We must arrive at church early if we intend to sit together. The eight of us take up an entire pew. I look down the row, taking in the worshipful expressions on the faces of my six children. Some have their hands lifted in praise; others have their eyes closed to shut out the world. Even the little one struggles to sing the words correctly, “I love you, Lord, love you, love you, love you. I love you, Lord, love you, love you, love you.”

The congregation is intense. I see worshipers crying, their faces furrowed with fervency. They seemed to sing from deep within their souls, “I love you, Lord, love you, love you love you.

The service ends. We smile at one another, hearts brimming with good intentions. How pleased the Lord must be with us, I muse. “I love you Lord, love you, love you, love you.

As we exit the building, reality hits with the glare of the Sunday sunshine. My son lets the church door slam in the face of my daughter who exclaims, “Way to go, Alex! Knock me down!” I grimace, darting my eyes to see if anyone heard.

The little one, who only moments ago struggled to sing his love to the Lord, begins to run in the parking lot. I chase him down and, once again, give the much-touted speech about the dangers of busy parking lots.

As we approach the van, the kids begin to trot. Then, suddenly, they break into a full sprint. The sight is that of buffalo with bibles.

“I get the front seat.”

“ I get the window.”

“No you don’t, you got the window on the way here.

“Mama, tell him I get the window.”

“You got it on the way to church.”

“Mama!”

“I love you Lord, love you, love you, love . . .” How many of the others, who just moments ago were passionately proclaiming their lavish love for God, have this obedience problem? I wondered.

We struggle to pen pretty poetry, extolling our love for Jesus, forgetting that He soberly informed His disciples just before His death, “If you love me you will keep my commandments.” “The one who keeps my commandants, he is the one who loves me.” To Jesus, the words, “I love you” are synonymous with the words “I obey you”. Would a change of text—I obey You, Lord, obey You obey You, obey You—compel us to sing with less enthusiasm?

It is not through easy words and melodies, but through a moment-by-moment walk of obedience that we melt into the intimacy of His love. “If you keep my commandments you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and remain in his love.” John 15:10. He is so patient, lovingly helping us to grow up in Him, just as I am loving awaiting the day my children will leave Sunday services with mature manners and obedient hearts. Obedience is the measurement of our understanding of His love, and love is the compelling force of obedience.

“Oh Love of my life, my Jesus, I want to know you. I want to enter into the deepest place of intimacy with You, to have your will become my will because You are love. Help me grow in obedience that I might sing from a peaceful heart with perfect truth, “I love you Lord, love you, love you, love you.”

By Robin Wolaver