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Jesus loves me, this I know

It has to be one of the first songs introduced to children in Sunday School. 

“Jesus loves me, this I know for the Bible tells me so,” is that beloved children’s song that even adults never outgrow.

The song was wandering through my mind recently and suddenly it ignited a spark in an aging brain cell. The Bible does tell me that Jesus loves me, and I believe that without any doubts, but that’s not His only means of expressing His love for me.

He uses the wide expanse of sky as a canvas and paints a different sunset at the end of every sunny day. No two are ever identical, and He gives me eyes to see color and depth in those sunsets.

He speaks love to me when I look up on a cloudless night and see the tapestry of stars scattered over the heavens and a sliver of a moon that gradually grows into a giant round nightlight. Who but a God of love would consider brightening the darkness of night with sparkling jewels?

My roses bloom every spring in their usual colors, but I can never see them as “usual.” I still stop and observe the fragile fold of petals that are wrapped perfectly to form an exquisite flower. Is that not a beautiful expression of the Father’s love to give us flowers of every imaginable color and form?

Each morning the early light is joined by the Castlewood serenading birds. Their happy tunes remind me of the gift of music and how creative God was to give birds a singing voice. I should thank God more often for the gift of hearing music because the notes speak love to me.

God could have made humans and placed each of us on an island of our own — just God and man, but He didn’t. He made man in His image, then a helpmeet for him so the two could fellowship with God and each other and make a family.

Now we are blessed with parents, brothers, sisters, aunts and uncles, and cousins galore. We call it family and get another wonderful expression of the Father’s love.

Sorrow, heartache, sickness — even death are strange bearers that can transport God’s love to us because these byproducts of Adam’s sin remind me of my helplessness without His presence and His love. God speaks love in the language of tears, too.

That meaningful childhood song, “Jesus Loves Me,” will always be a classic because it’s a foundational truth, but His love is communicated to us in a multitude of ways. “The Old Rugged Cross” probably says it best of all.

Letters to Camille Anding can be sent to P.O. Box 551, Brookhaven, MS, 39602, or e-mailed to camille@datalane.net.