Mending Hearts: A Call to Love

Imagine– a quilt of many colors, for a nation desperate to come home, to return to love.

Love is our highest calling.

Love is what makes us human—what sets us apart from being just apex predators.

The Bible calls Christians to take every thought captive—to pause and ask:

Is this loving?
My thoughts?
My actions?
My prayers?

Because to walk with Christ is to walk in his love.

And the only requirement to walk with him?
Our own love, extended.

Not perfect.
Just loving.

Love is not reactive.
Love is not rushed.
Love considers.
Love listens.
Love waits.

Jesus made taking the first step reachable:
Love God with all your heart,
and love your neighbor as yourself.

That’s it. That’s the highest command.
Love your neighbor.

Not more than yourself.
Not less than yourself.
Equal to yourself.

Equality.
One of America’s purest ideals: that every human is created equal.
We may not have achieved that ideal yet, but—

Your neighbor is not an idea.
It’s the person next to you at the gas pump,
in the hospital bed,
the school drop-off line,
at the pharmacy,
behind you in traffic,
or asleep beside you.

It’s the group of people who share your street,
your town,
your county,
your state,
and your country’s borders.

So extend your love beyond your own borders—
to your neighbors.
All of them.

Not because they’re Christian.
Not because they’re American.
Not because they’re like you.
But because they are next to you in God’s eyes.

His vision extends far beyond our understanding.
He knows this—which is why he left us with the simplicity of love as our guidepost.

This love isn’t exclusive to Christians.
Jesus was clear: he has other flocks.

Grace reaches anyone who places love first in their heart.
Anyone who chooses compassion over control.
Anyone who stops to see their neighbor—truly see them—and says:
You matter as much as I do.

But here in America,
we’ve tugged at our social fabric so hard trying to balance the scales—
rather than reach for love—
that we’ve torn it.

Because this country isn’t a melting pot.
It’s a patchwork quilt.

And that’s beautiful.

Patchwork quilts are made with love.
Old shirts, favorite patterns, teddy bears,
stitched together—one layer, one memory at a time.

Some stitches are tight and rugged.
Some are elegant and looping.
All are needed.

Each stitch a tiny act that strengthens the fabric.
Each one a blessing for warmth and protection.
Each one honors the story of the maker.
That’s love.

This country could be that now.
We have mended our patchwork before—
and I have faith that we can do it again, through love.

Imagine–
a quilt of many colors,
for a nation desperate to come home,
to return to love.

Returning to love is a choice.
A choice we can make in each moment, each day.
A choice to extend love to our neighbors,
grounded in equality and grace.

Love for each other has always been our north star to freedom.
Not power, fear, division, blame, or control.
Love.

Love doesn’t pit us against each other.
It doesn’t justify harm for selfish gain.
It doesn’t confuse protection with control.

Love pauses.
Love sees.
Love works to mend—stitch by stitch.

So when you go out into the world today,
leave with love.