I am being pruned.
"I am the vine and you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing."
I try to do it on my own sometimes.
"If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish and it will be done for you."
I'd like a pony, please.
"My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples."
I suppose a pony doesn't make me a better disciple, does it. Nevermind, then.
"As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you."
The Father asked you to die for me. You ask me to die for you. Seems intense.
"Abide in my love."
How?
"If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love."
Oh.
"I have said these things to you that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete. This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has a greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you."
Seems conditional, Jesus. But you said abide in your love. Dwell. Make my house in your love. I am to make my house on the rock, not the sand. A rock seems pretty steady. I just have to build it there. How? By obeying you.
Sigh. I'm being pruned.
snip. snip.
