I Love You, But I’m Not You

Fants Grove Cemetery, Anderson, SC
To my atheist and agnostic friends, I want to tell you why I will never be one of you. This also applies to my gloomy Christian friends, since I can never be one of you either.

You see, when I was a child, Jesus came to live in our house. I learned to talk with him by hearing my parents talk with him. He sat at our pink kitchen table, he rode in our green Chevy station wagon, and he sat by my bedside while I fell asleep. 

He provided us a place to live, he led my father into ministry, he sent angels to our house with groceries, and he healed us when we were sick. 

I can never be a doubter or an unbeliever when he has proved to me that he is real.

We talked to him as much as we talked about him. He wasn’t just a Sunday subject. But, oh the Sundays we had with him (and with our friends who knew him too) were wonderful. 

I can never be a gloomy Christian. I have experienced too much life and joy in my times of private worship and in times where I was one of a dozen, or thousands, of believers corporately lifting our hearts and voices in praise.

My memories from childhood are filled with lyrics that included phrases like “Jesus is a friend of mine,” “All to Jesus I surrender,” and “Each step I take my savior goes before me.”

These weren’t just words we sang by rote, they were the true sentiment of our relationship with Jesus.

Mama prayed the sweetest prayers, and Daddy prayed until God answered. Mama would raise her face toward the heavens, close her eyes, smile, and sing, “Oh, I want to see Him, look upon His face.” 

Tomorrow marks two years since that prayer was answered. I suspect she still isn’t tired of looking on his face.

So, no sir, I won’t be joining the ranks of the doubters and unbelievers, and I can never be gloomy about my relationship with a person who has been part of my entire life in such a real, powerful way. I hope you know him too.