“I know that my redeemer lives.
What comfort this sweet sentence gives.”
About a month ago, someone much older and wiser than me read one of my blog articles and stated very bluntly, “You need to edit your sh*t.”
He was right. I love writing about the complexities of the faith in the modern world. It’s difficult for me to keep it below a thousand words. How can there even be enough words to describe the love of Christ and what it means to be his disciple?
But complex and beautiful though it is, it is easy to forget how simple it is.
I have something that unbelievers don’t. I have something a vast majority of the world doesn’t have. Agnostics. Atheists. Buddhists. Muslims. Mormons.
I know that my redeemer lives.
So much of the world gets distracted with the fact that we need a redeemer in the first place. How dare we acknowledge our brokenness? How dare we have a moral standard? How could anyone love a God that allows so much suffering?
But the facts are not to be overcome.
Jesus lived, died, and rose again. Any historian and archaeologist will back this up. The evidence is out there for the skeptics to pour through.
Regardless of whether you believe it was necessary, or right, or fair… it happened. And it matters. And it impacts you.
When I face the brokenness of the world, I face it with this confidence: I know that my redeemer lives. I know that he will return on the last day. I know that he walks through suffering with us. I know that he holds every tear we’ve cried in his scarred hands.
Do you? Do you know that?
There’s not much else to know. Not at first anyway. It’s that simple. He lives. He lives and I don’t have to face death now. Jesus Christ conquered death so that I don’t have to. Why wouldn’t you want a redeemer like that? What could possibly hold you back from falling into his loving arms?
When you see suffering, what do you say? When you see death, tragedy, cancer, shootings, violence, and pain, what do you say?
I say I know that my redeemer lives. What comfort that sweet sentence gives.