“Jesus loves me this I know…” but I didn’t know.
“For God so loved the world…” but did He love me?
I was consumed and tormented by this question.
I put God on the stand and built my case. “What kind of Father are you? Why are you withholding peace when you could give it? If you really loved me, then you would give me a miraculous moment—a knowing of your love that would flood my mind and heart. You have given others miracles, why not me? You are guilty of failing me as a father. You are guilty of being unloving. You are guilty. What do you have to say for yourself?”
Silence. Not a word. Proof.
Then one day I came upon a story about a rich man who died and went to Hades where he laid in torment. I wasn’t in Hades but I was in torment. He had five living brothers he cared about very deeply so he asked for a miracle. “Please raise someone from the dead to warn them and tell them to repent of their sins and turn to God.” Like me, his miracle was denied. “They have been warned by Moses and the prophets.” I joined my voice with his, “IT IS NOT ENOUGH!”
Once again proof that you are guilty of being unloving!
“Have you raised others from the dead?”
“Did it result in some turning to you?”
“Why then would you NOT do it for these men?”
With tears in His eyes God responded with five simple words, “They still would not believe.”
This time I was silent. Not a word. Proof.
I was guilty. God had given me exactly what was needed. It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t miraculous. But it was enough. I recalled songs that had comforted me, unexpected phone calls of encouragement, books handed to me, notes of encouragement, comforting dreams, and a meat man. Yes, you heard me right, a meat man.
It was a Thursday. The kids were at school and my husband had gone to work. Somehow, I needed to find relief from the turmoil within and sleep seemed my healthiest option. As I curled up on the couch, the often-repeated words fell from my mouth, “God, I just want to know you love me.”
When the doorbell woke me I mumbled in frustration, “Why can’t I just sleep?!” At my door stood a tall, thin, lanky man with a silver beard and hair to match. He spoke quickly and with enthusiasm, “Your husband told me to come back today since you do all the grocery shopping. I was wondering if I could show you my meats?” (Not even kidding)
I am not sure why I didn’t say no thanks and send him on his merry way but I didn’t. Instead I invited him in and allowed him to proudly display his products on my dining room table.
“So, what do you think? Would you like to buy some meat?” I had never bought anything from a door to door salesman. Never. But for some reason the word, “Sure,” stumbled out of my mouth! Moments later we were loading the freezer and making small talk about the weather when he suddenly paused and looked straight into my eyes, “You know what I’ve learned from that ice storm last year?”
“No, what?” I said with my, “I-don’t-really-care attitude.”
“God sure does love us.”
“Wait! Double-take! Did he really just say God loved me? ‘God loves us.’” My heart skipped a beat.
Of all the ways I had wanted or dreamed God might show me love, this was not one of them. I knew in that moment I could choose to receive this man’s words or once again insist God show me another way, a better way, my way. It wasn’t exactly a miracle and it wasn’t even Moses or the prophets but it was uniquely mine and IT WAS ENOUGH.
Each day God gives a choice to receive or reject what He offers. One choice brings life and the other death. I was tired of dying so that day I chose Life. And today I choose Life. Humbly I choose to accept daily bread, as plain as it is, and not demand quail. It may not be what I want but it is exactly what I need.
I am loved and my friend you are too!