If I do great exploits but am void of love, I'm like a squeaking door or a leaky faucet. If my professed love for Jesus doesn't translate into expressed love for all people, I'm a faker and a fool. True love is costly. If the love of Jesus evidenced by precious blood spilled on a cross doesn't jolt my soul to stretch to the uttermost to show a kindred love, I'm singing a tuneless dirge in a bankrupt swamp brimming with insincere intentions. But, I hold out hope for a Spirit-timed revival to engulf a frozen heart, which time and again has been defrosted by the thawing persuasiveness of the eternal Voice that never leads astray and always tells the Truth. Love is the lifeblood flowing through converted veins. Regeneration is proven by love. Sanctification is sourced by love. Glorification is heralded by love. This agape is not sentimental fluff, but a substance found only in the truly converted, which springs forth in humble outbursts of gospel-infused sacrificial service for, to, and through, Jesus.