And Yet, I Know

Tears stream as I gaze out the window of my favorite coffee shop, undone by the goodness of God— the withness of Christ. 

I’m supposed to be writing other words, but these are the only words that seem to come. Oh, God, thank you. 

I think of all the ways I cannot know if He is real. If He is who He says He is. And yet, though I cannot know, I know. I know deep within my soul, within the very fabric of my bones, that He is God. And He came for us. For me. That, even now, He walks with me closely. I am undone because I see the flashbacks of my life like a film reel, and the sounds of that old projector ricochet across the landscape of my mind. The beauty. The blessing. The gut-wrenching pain. The deep wounds at the hands of those who say they love Him. Even after such profound hurt, I still believe they do. Because there are times I see myself flash by, standing there with that wretched, regretful whip. I walk with a limp, too. Selah.

A woman sings the Psalms into my ears, inviting me in. Reminding me that I am woven into this complex tapestry of Believers who know this Truth they cannot know. The Words wake something beneath the surface of this hastened, chaotic modern life with endless deadlines and places to be. In this moment, I’m there with the ancient saints, witnessing. 

I cannot know, and yet, I know. My eyes have not seen, and yet, they have seen. The faithfulness of God played out in real time every single day of my life. The treasured withness of Christ. Who am I that the Creator of all things is mindful of me? Oh my soul, rejoice! 

This is the day the Lord has made — rejoice! 

He will not let me slip or fall; it's He who holds me up— rejoice! 

He redeems my life from destruction — rejoice! 

He gives joy for mourning and beauty for ashes — rejoice!

He will never leave or abandon me — rejoice! 

I wasn’t there in the beginning when He walked in perfect unity with His created ones. I wasn’t there when He parted the waters or made the sun stand still. I wasn’t there when He stepped into the dirt with a woman and wrapped her in earth-shattering compassion while the righteous mocked and scorned. And yet what I cannot know, I know. What my eyes did not see is somehow etched into the fabric of my bones, a faith marked by a settled knowing. I am forever gratefully tethered to the King called Christ. I rejoice because He has been good to me. I rest, and I believe, whatever may come.

For He who is mighty has done great things, for me. 

PS. The Album I mentioned is Steffany Gretzinger's "Psalms," and it's lovely. Listen here.

For encouragement & a reminder that God is with you:

Psalm 37 Psalm 121

Psalm 103 Isaiah 61:3

Deuteronomy 31:6