The Jesus I Know
There are a lot of things I don’t know.
I don’t know how to climb the corporate ladder. I don’t know how to plant a garden. I don’t know how to cook strudel (or even spell strudel without assistance).
I don’t know how to play the banjo or rock a new makeup style, and I still haven’t figured out how to fishtail braid my hair. I know very little about cars, sports, or politics. . . .
There is much in our world, and in my life, that I don’t know.
But I know Jesus. He is the One I can say I truly know.
Do I know Him perfectly? No. Not even close. I’m still learning who He is, and I will be for all my life.
Have I got Him figured out? No way, José. If I ever were to claim as much, I’d be lying.
I don’t know Jesus perfectly. I haven’t figured Him out (nor do I want to). But I do know Him.
The Hebrew word for ‘to know’ is yada’. There are many meanings for this one word, but overall, it conveys a very intimate idea of truly seeing and knowing someone. In the Bible, yada’ is used to describe two becoming one, an assuredness and certainty of someone or something, close relations, and an active pursuing of someone.
My heart's desire is to yada’ Jesus, and for Him to yada’ me. I long to know Him inside and out, and to be fully, unashamedly known by Him.
And I want to share with you the One who is worthy of all our love, our praise, our trust, our honor. Sweet Jesus. Strong Jesus. He’s the One who gave up everything that He might have you.
As I travel on this journey, this great adventure of falling more in love with Jesus each day, I invite you to join me.
I want to show you the Jesus I know. He is my reason, my song, and my joy. He can be yours too.
My Story
I was born to two loving Christian parents, who raised me to love the Lord and His Word. I remember as a three-year-old sitting on my parents’ huge bed (at least, it seemed huge to me then), listening to my Mom explain why God sent His only Son into the world.
I readily accepted her invitation to ask Jesus ‘into my heart.’ Immediately, my soul was flooded with joy, and for the rest of the day I kept telling everyone I came across, “I have Jesus in my heart! I have Jesus in my heart!”
As I grew up, and my body changed and my mind became stronger, my love for my God and His Word grew too. Bible studies, small groups, church, youth groups . . . these were all familiar and normal to me.
I knew all the ‘Christian’ behaviors to emulate, and followed them to a T, not only because I was told to but also because I saw my parents truly walk in faith every day. Daily quiet time, regular fasting, times of prayer – all of these I witnessed firsthand. So I too read my Bible, prayed, occasionally fasted, and wrote in a journal.
But my life wasn’t perfect . . .
