This I Know

At the end of every issue of “O,” Oprah Winfrey’s magazine, Oprah writes a short essay on what she knows for sure.  She has written that she knows for sure that the sun will rise again after tragedy, that her friends will always be there for her, that letting go of the past is not only possible but necessary in order to “live your best life.“

Unlike Oprah, I’m finding that the older I get, the less I really do know for sure.  I don’t know why a man stockpiles weapons and ammunition, then uses his hotel room as a sniper’s nest to rain down murderous fire on innocent people.  I don’t know how, in this day and age, there are still people who identify as white supremacists and really, truly believe that their race is the only one worth saving.  I don’t understand the culture we live in, where bullying, either behind a computer screen or in person, is so rampant that there is an epidemic of suicide in teens and kids as young as eleven.  And I cannot even begin to comprehend the mind of a person so hell-bent on holy war that he would sacrifice himself to mow down more innocent people, knowing that he’ll die along with those he murders.   Mostly, I don’t know what God’s plan is in all of this, and I don’t know how He can tolerate watching His precious people, the ones He created in His own image, take the blessings He has given us and twist them into our own ugly creations.

When I was a child, my dad spoke at my grandparents’ church.  He gave a simple sermon with the thesis that two of the most basic things we learn in Sunday school, the song “Jesus Loves Me” and the 23rd Psalm, teach us the essential lessons of Christianity.  The first lesson is that Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.  The second lesson is that the Lord is my shepherd, so I will lack nothing and, after walking with Him for a lifetime, I will dwell in His heavenly house forever.

As I think about my life in the context of that message, I know this for sure—Jesus loves me.  I don’t understand how He could, or why, in the face of my many mistakes and shortcomings, He always will.  Yet I know that when I bring my mistakes before Him, I will look into a face full of love, not reproach, and once again find strength in Him to try again.  As a little girl, I loved the hand motions that went along with “Jesus Loves Me.”  My favorite part was when we sang, “They are weak but He is strong.”  Prompted by the word strong, we would all make fists and flex our biceps in a show of strength.  I still think of that sometimes, when I am struggling or when someone I love is hurting.  I picture Jesus reaching down to help, flexing His bicep and showing His strength as He works in my weakness to reveal that yes, He does love me.  The Bible tells me so, and even when the words are hard to comprehend or I don‘t feel particularly lovable, I know it for sure.

I also know, after a lifetime of following Jesus and trusting in His love, that He truly is my shepherd.  In His care, there is nothing I lack that I truly need.  He is my companion in the restful times of my life, and He is and has been at my side, holding me up, as I have fought my way through countless valleys of depression, addiction, and pain.  I know that after a life spent following my beloved shepherd, trusting His love and goodness to guide each step I take, He will make a place for me in His own home, where I will live with Him forever because of His gift of salvation.  I cannot conceive of a more undeserved, astonishing demonstration of love.  And in my own humanness, I sometimes find it difficult to believe.  Yet I choose to believe it, not always understanding, but knowing without a doubt that the 23rd Psalm is as true for me as it was for David, the shepherd-king who spent his life experiencing God’s goodness and mercy.

There is so much that I don’t know and don’t understand.  Every day when I watch the news, I am at a loss to comprehend the violence and depravity of the world I live in.  When I see the hollow ache in someone’s eyes that speaks of a pain I, too, have known, I don’t know what God’s plan is or when He will flex that divine muscle and drive the sadness away.  But in the face of all that is unknown and uncertain in this life and in this world, this much I know for sure: Jesus loves me and every one of His children, and He is shepherding each of us through our own journey of green pastures and dark valleys until He takes us home.  I know this for sure—absolutely, unequivocally, for sure.  How do I know?  Because the Bible tells me so.  And for me, that is enough.