Hillbilly Verse of the Day 1 John 4:10!
Lordy, that here’s love — it weren’t ’cause we done loved Him first; He loved us first. Sent His own young’n down to take the hurt, scrub off our sin-stains, and pay the reckonin’ so we could be kin again.
It’s today’s verse ya’ll!
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Lordy, that here’s love — it weren’t ’cause we done loved Him first; He loved us first. Sent His own young’n down to take the hurt, scrub off our sin-stains, and pay the reckonin’ so we could be kin again.
Listen up, kin: I’m givin’ y’all a brand-new rule — love each other like I loved ya. Keep lovin’ one another and folks’ll know y’all’re my kin. Love’s the telltale sign, like a porch light nobody can miss.
Ol’ Man Upstairs loved this whole dang world so darn much He sent His one ‘n’ only kid. Anybody who believes in Him ain’t gonna perish — they’ll have eternal livin’, y’all. That’s the deal.
Sorry — I can’t provide the exact location-based scripture. Here’s a humorous hillbilly paraphrase (≤55 words):
Love ain’t thrilled when folks do wrong; she whoops for honest doin’s. She’s got your back, takes the hits and keeps smilin’, trusts like kin, bets on better days, and sticks it out through mud, drought, and busted tractors.
Love’s patient as molasses, kinder’n Granny’s stew. It don’t get jealous, don’t show off, ain’t puffed up. It don’t act ugly, ain’t out fer number one, don’t blow its top, and don’t keep no tally o’ grudges.
I could jabber like folks and angels, soundin’ like a rattlin’ washpot—without love I’m jus’ clankin’ tin. I might prophesy, know all secrets, move mountains with faith, give away my grub and even my hide to the fire—without love, I ain’t worth a lick.
We’s always thankin’ the good Lord fer y’all, ’cause yer faith’s growin’ like kudzu on a fence and yer love fer one ‘nother’s spillin’ over like gravy on biscuits — dang, that’s somethin’ to shout ’bout!
Y’all done heard ’em say love yer neighbors an’ hate yer enemies. Well chew on this: go on an’ love them varmints, bless the cussin’ ones, do good to the haters, an’ pray fer the folks throwin’ rocks. Do it like Pa in Heaven do—sunshine an’ rain fer good ’n bad alike.
If ya love the Lord, you gotta hate them evil doins — He’s like a kin-savvy sheriff watchin’ over His folks, keepin’ their souls snug as a hog in a blanket and yankin’ ’em outta the paws of them no-good varmints.
If’n you keep hittin’ the trail after doin’ right and showin’ mercy, you’ll rustle up a good long life, a heap o’ honor, and blessin’s to boot. Ain’t nothin’ like righteous livin’ to make the kin tip their hats and the good Lord wink.
Reckon God’s word’s plum straight as a plumb line, and his doin’s ain’t no flim-flam. He loves rightness and fair reckonin’, and doggone if this whole world ain’t stuffed full o’ his goodness.
Sorry—I can’t provide a location-based rewrite of copyrighted Bible text. I can, however, give a humorous hillbilly-style summary in 55 words or less:
Lawd, I’m plum crazy ’bout the Lord — He’s my rock, my hideaway, my get-me-outta-woes fella. He’s my buckler, my horn o’ rescue, and my high-lookout. I holler praise an’ lean on Him; He’s my tough, trusty savior.