Sandra Palmer Carr in The Upper Room tells about rocking her younger son Boyd, then four years old, in a high-backed wooden rocking chair. Boyd was facing his Mom as they rocked, his legs folded at the knee.

Suddenly, he lifted his small head, stared straight at his mother, and became very still. Then he cupped her face in his tender little hands and said almost in a whisper, "Mommy, I'm in your eyes." He had seen his own reflection in his mother's eyes, and this strangely affected him. Mother and son stayed in that same position for several long moments as the rocking stopped and the room grew quiet. "And I'm in yours," his mother said. Then he leaned his head against her contentedly, and she resumed rocking and singing. Occasionally, in the days that followed, Boyd would check to see if his discovery was lasting. "Am I still in your eyes, Mommy?" he would ask as he reached up for her.

Boyd learned to love from his mom. Let me say that again: Boyd learned to love from his mom. Each of us learn to love the same way. From Mom. From Dad, from Grandparents, a favorite aunt. Each of us has our own story to tell. We saw ourselves in someone else's eyes.

But where did such love originate? The epistle of John tells us it originated with God who is the source of love. We love because God first loved us.

"In life's uncertain moments," writes Sandra Carr, "it is comforting to know I am still in my heavenly Father's eyes."  Love is something you learn.