My Move

Keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life. – Jude 1:21

At first glance Jude’s commandment here is unsettling. If I’m to “keep myself” in God’s love, I might figure His love for me depends on my somehow remaining in it, making it conditional.

Scary thought. Scarier still is the blank I draw when asking myself exactly how I’m to keep myself in someone else’s love, much less God’s. Is it like an encircled area I’m not to step out of? Do I get it back if I step back into it? Or is it a matter of keeping myself in it by pleasing Him, and thereby keeping the love flowing?

Doubtful. Paul said, after all, that “when we were yet without strength Christ died for the ungodly” (Romans 5:6)  and posed a logical question in light of that: “He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things?” (Romans 8:32) That being the case, I surely am not expected to keep His love alive as one keeps a balloon afloat. God so loved the world that He gave, with no assistance from me, so Jude must have had something else in mind when writing this admonition.

And since human love, while falling infinitely short of His, at least gives us glimpses and shadows of divine love, I can look to my own very imperfect love to get a better sense of how I’m to keep myself in His.

I love my family, and I’m glad to say they love me back. But if they chose to – which, thankfully, they don’t – they could distance themselves from me, and in doing so, distance themselves from my love as well. They could choose not to speak to me, or to avoid me, or hold a grudge if I did something stupid or downright wrong.

My love would still be there, available and unchanged. But if the objects of that love choose not to receive it, they are, in essence, keeping themselves out of it. Not killing it or diminishing it – just not receiving it, as one chooses not to tune into an air wave that’s always there but, to be enjoyed, must be connected with.

When Jesus said “abide in me” (John 15:4) He wasn’t, I’m sure, saying our relationship with Him is an on again/off again one, depending on how well we’re doing the abiding thing. In fact, He promised a comforter that would abide with us forever (John 14:26) and declared He was with us always, even unto the end of the world.(Matthew 28:20)  So He’s there, within and without us, regardless, once and for all, amen. But I can choose to recognize and respond to that intimacy we have, or I can ignore it, and my life is definitely and immeasurably affected either way.

When I let my doubts convince me He’s giving up on me, or my rebellion steer me towards stupid actions and attitudes, I’m not keeping myself in the place of blessing and power. I’m not receiving His love; not abiding in Him. I don’t lose Him or His love in the process, but boy do I lose. Peace, strength, joy, and wisdom are sacrificed at the altar of Stupid, and I, a king’s son, eat scraps and sleep in a self-imposed gutter. It’s my move that made it happen, not His.

I want to keep it clean today. I want my body, His Temple, to be an instrument of honor. I want the strength to resist and choose, since hundreds of things will present themselves to me in the course of the day, some of which He would have me resist; others of which He bids me choose. I want all of that to happen, and none of it will if I’m not focusing first and foremost on Jude’s simple advice – keep yourself in His love.

So today, Lord, we the sheep look to You the Shepherd for Your leading, correction and provision, all in the interest of being kept in Your love, where we are satisfied because, under Your care just as David said, we shall not want.