He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not …

As a child, I would often see characters on TV plucking daisy petals, mumbling to themselves, “He loves me, he loves me not…” Even as a youngster, it was clear that this poor, tormented, lovesick soul was attempting some means of superstitious divination to determine the feelings of her one true love. “He loves me, he loves me not…”

I, too, have been struggling with my own particular brand of torment. When faced with tragedy, sickness, or misfortune, it is natural to wonder, “Did I bring this upon myself? Am I being punished? Does God hate me? Why is my pain unending and my wound incurable?” (Jer 15:18).

Now, I’ve been trying to maintain the proverbial stiff upper lip. But frankly, after a month or 2, or 12, or 16, it gets kind of old. I begin to understand why people in my position give up and why those who suffer from the ravages of ischemic strokes typically take much longer to recover than those with hemorrhagic strokes. The statistics tell me that I will never fully recover from this horrible life sentence. Do I passively roll over and just take it? Do I continue to fight like some deluded Don Quixote? I get so very, very tired. And yet, the demands of life keep piling higher and higher each day. Does anyone care? Does God even care?

In the deafening silence of solitude (remember I have tinnitus), I’ve no choice but to wrestle with the existential realities of my faith. Does God exist? Does He care? Does Jesus make a practical difference at all?

My mind scrambles to gain a grip on the slippery slope of Doubt, so common when pain or suffering refuses to go away. I consider the alternatives. Evolutionary Darwinism? I find it scientifically contradictory and statistically impossible. Buddhism. You mean creator-less reincarnation with the nothingness of nirvana as the ultimate purpose? Even the Dalai Lama cannot overcome his desire to free Tibet. How about Extremist Islam? Sure, let’s blow ourselves up along with as many Christians as we can to get rivers of wine and 40 virgins a piece. I suppose in a more twisted world, it would make for a popular video game, rated M for mature.

No, Christianity is the most rational, reasonable, historically accurate, and scientifically sound belief system I know of. Just the staggering numbers of fulfilled prophecies** are impossible to discount; the great numbers of changed lives and contributions in terms of universities, hospitals, charities, and good works done in the name of Christ, are compelling to say the least.

For me, the simple fact of the 500+ eyewitnesses to Jesus’ resurrection, many of these early martyrs who went willingly to their deaths, is powerful proof enough. All they had to do was admit that Jesus had NOT been raised from the dead and they would’ve saved their own lives! They must have been convinced that they had seen Jesus back from the dead in order to be willing to die for their testimony. No ONE would die for a lie, let alone so many.

And then, of course, there are events in my own life and in the lives of many others that we would consider miraculous, impossible to explain apart from divine intervention. No, I’m convinced Jesus is the Way, as the Bible declares (John 14:6). But where is He now and why is He taking so long to heal me? How can I accept it if the healing stops?

This brings me back to my petal-plucking pondering. Can I believe in a loving God even when pain and suffering continue? Does God personally care for me even when my circumstances tell me otherwise?

Oswald Chambers said:
“Faith is deliberate confidence in the character of God whose ways you may not understand at the time.”
But how do I know I can trust His character?

I’m reminded of Abraham and Issac. God does the unthinkable by asking Abraham to offer up his most precious, only son on the mountains of Moriah. Of course, it’s only a test. God stops Abraham at the last moment. But it is also a picture of things to come as then, God Himself, sacrifices His own Son centuries later as a ransom for humanity. Jesus goes through the crucible by being scourged, scorned, and crucified for me. I try to imagine how God the Father felt as He witnessed the degradation and death of His Beloved, beaten beyond recognition, hanging on a bloody cross.

I ponder this as my own son is curled up warm and safe, his head on my chest, asleep without a care. How different is this loving, peaceful moment compared to the panic and desperation I felt when they hauled me away in the ambulance for the third time, wondering if I would leave my children without an earthly father.

As I consider these things, I revisit the original question.
He loves me… He loves me not? There is no doubt.

HE LOVES ME!

“He who did not spare His own Son but gave Him up for us all, how will He not also, along with Him, freely give us all things?” – Romans 8:32 (BSB)
Thank you for your continued prayers and support.


-Tim


**The odds of one person fulfilling just 8 of the numerous Old Testament prophecies concerning Jesus is one in one hundred quadrillion.  Consider that the Old Testament has over 300 such prophecies! If you’re interested, see
https://www.jewishvoice.org/read/blog/prophecies-about-messiahs-lineage-and-birth