"Jesus loves me"
I knew that my parents loved me. I knew that my cousins and other family members loved me. But I felt that they kinda had to since we were born into the same family. It wasn't inconvenient, but it was obvious that it had to be the norm. But why did Jesus love me enough to give his life?
Maybe it is simply a really good story. A metaphor for how life on earth is meant to be. Maybe Jesus is simply a nice teacher who was more of an advocate for universalism than faith in One God. Maybe he didn't resurrect on the third day and his bones are tucked away in Osama Bin Laden's hiding place.Maybe it, like all other religions, are a construction of the intricate human psyche. Or maybe Buddha is just as significant as Jesus who is equal to Muhammad. Maybe god is a figment of my broken imagination. Maybe I am god and don't know it.
I don't have certainty. Philosophically, none of us can be certain of anything. But I have faith that Jesus did come to earth, as God and Man, and died for me out of love and compassion for my sins. So that I can be free in this life and the next. I have faith that that day I prayed to Jesus for the first time, he heard me and answered.
At times, my faith is made tangible. Through an unseen comfort in moments where I faced sorrow, heartache, and despair alone. Certain evidences have appeared in my life that have blatantly hinted at a truth I learned as little girl:
"Jesus loves me"
But as for you, continue in what you have learned and have become convinced of, because you know those from whom you learned it, and how from infancy you have known the holy Scriptures, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.
—II Timothy 3:14-17