The Only Big Enough Answer

Jesus loves me this I know. It’s theme song of my life and it’s everything I need to know.

I’m certain He sang it to me in womb. When I was yet unformed. Curled up tight in warm dark. Did His fingers strum gentle the strings of my heart, “I love you” song?

Strum. “I love you.” Strum. “I love you.” Strum. “And that’s all you need to know.”

Did He thrum life into me while mother heart beat steady just above my form?

Did mother heart and Savior heart beat drum and strum thrum til I knew it by heart before I was born because I would need to know this love down deep to find it later? To know it deep down before my feet touched the floor and I learned to walk?

Seems to me I still walk better when first I curl bent and bowed on knees.

I walk better when I start like this. When I crawl out of bed and kneel rather than jump out and run.

I learn how to walk by spending time on my knees. And I hear better when my heart is pounding after Jesus before my feet pound after anything else. When I hear Him say, “Come to Me,”

It’s learned. Practiced. And how many wilderness miles have I pounded out on foot before I heave out breathless, “Where are You” and crumple?

And gasp out, “Why?”

Just, “Why?”

 

Little One Finding Why

It’s a little word that carries weight too big. A little one’s favorite word and the only big enough answer is, “Because I love you.”

When trouble is afoot, questions follow on the heel. And God must hear the question, "Why?" more often than any other. In the wild we question wildly. And it seems I’ve bit the word out defiant there. Before the crumple.  

But the “why.” The true ”why” that asks bent over and  true. It comes on the knee.  

Wilderness questions know not tame answers.  And “Because I love you,” is not tame. Not tidy either. “Because I love you,” is all-of-life answer  to real-life question. Cross rugged.

Maybe it’s meant to be. All the occasions to ask “why.”  Because maybe every “why” is answered, “Because I love you” and every “why” is chance to say, “Thank You.”

Maybe every wilderness “why” that comes true and crumpled and breathless is chance to enter His gates and courts.

Because a crumpled “why” can become an awed, “Thank You.”

 

What if I heard, “Because I love you” when anything else is more than I can understand?

He says it more than I hear it.

And what if I said, "Thank you" just because I asked “Why?” Just said  “Thank You?”

Period. Because I trust “Because I love you” is always His answer?

What if?

I want to find “what if” out.

 

He loves me. It’s the only big enough answer.

He loves me.

For everything easy and everything difficult in all my days. It’s the only big enough answer.

And this little one says, “Thank You.”

Because this little one is learning to trust His big enough love. That’s my answer to my question.

That’s why.

“Because. I. Love. You.”

“I will give you rest.” I barely hear it somewhere down below heart racing because its run all wild. His gentle heart catches mine and His fingers tune taught strings there and strum the tension til I hear the old song. “Jesus loves me, this I know.”

I know it. I do. I really do even though I am prone to answer, “I’ll be there in a minute!” when He bids, “Come to Me.”

Prone to answer, “Hold on, I’ve almost got this figured out!” when He longs out, “Learn from Me.”

Prone to answer, “I’m almost done with this,” when He yearns, “Let’s do this together.”

And when I crumple, “Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm, hummm, this I know….”

It starts down low. The hum.  Theme song. Duet.

Before my feet touched the floor this morning, I heard His heart strings strum it out. "Today you have this assurance; 'I love you,' and this purpose; ‘Love Me.'"

 
Dancing Song


“Dance with Me,” He says because He’s already dancing to His own love. He takes me in His arms and dances me across the floor of His heart.

And every note to this song and the thrum and the beat is the song that He sang into me and strummed right into the strings of my heart when He formed me and knew I would ask “Why” many times so that He could answer  “Because I love you” every time and so that I could say “Thank You” all the time so that we could dance to it all. His love. In His courts.

“Yes, Jesus love me! Yes Jesus loves me. Yes, Jesus loves me! The Bible tells me so.”

Song rises up and the notes play across the floor of His heart. And mine.

 He’s been singing it forever.

 

 written by: Carolyn Roehrig