I know that my Redeemer lives,
And ever prays for me;
I know eternal life He gives,
From sin and sorrow free.
Uncertainty hit like a train. It wasn’t exactly a particular moment in my life, but slowly I began to realize that I could not say the same things about God as those around me. I could not affirm what they said.
I know that unto sinful men
His saving grace is nigh;
I know that He will come again
To take me home on high.
They were so certain of everything. How did they know these things? They spoke of God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit, the Bible, salvation, atonement, sin, death, heaven, hell, angels, demons, saints, and everything with such conviction. I was left feeling like a failure.
I know that over yonder stands
A place prepared for me;
A home, a house not made with hands,
Most wonderful to see.
But I saw myself in Jacob (soon to be Israel) wrestling with God. I heard my voice in a desperate father’s shouting, “I believe! Help my unbelief!” I felt in my chest the heart of Thomas, a disciple willing to die for a savior he saw but believing an unseen savior to be dead.
I know, I know that my Redeemer lives,
I know, I know eternal life He gives;
I know, I know that my Redeemer lives.
This knowing that I heard from sermons, songs, and testimonies did not ring true for me. Yesterday I read these words and the comfort and slight exhilaration that comes from someone else speaking your own experience washed over me:
“When people say they believe in the existence of God, it has never impressed me in the least. Either I know a thing and then I don’t need to believe it; or I believe it because I’m not sure that I know it.” -Carl Jung
I do not know that my Redeemer lives.
I believe it.
I do not know God exists.
I believe it.
I do not believe that everyone ought to be like me. Some people are certain that God exists. Others are certain God does not exist.
As for me, I know nothing of God’s existence.
But I believe.
Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.