Jesus Loves Me, Do I Know?
Embracing a love that knows us in the darkest of places
There are times in life where God feels absent and silent. The brokenness of life feels suffocating—hope and redemption fleeting.
Then there are times when the goodness of God is tangible, unveiled in His grace, lived out right in front of our eyes.
Where are our eyes looking today?
Recently I experienced one of these days—where heaven met earth and the veil was lifted just a little, showing the grander story that has been etched into the foundation of this world even before it began.
It brought awe.
It brought gratefulness.
It made me feel so small, yet so intentionally seen.
My family and I were recently on a cross-country road trip. We traveled from Georgia to California and back again in a minivan. It wasn’t for the faint of heart that’s for sure, but it was worth it. We laughed, we argued, we hugged many loved ones, and we were grateful to visit some amazing national parks to witness new aspects of God’s creation.
On one of evening of our trip, I was dozing off in a hotel room crammed full with my husband and the four children that live with us. My husband (Bobby) was singing the children’s hymn, Jesus Loves Me, This I Know to our almost sleeping children. As I myself started dozing in the night, I listened as the words he sang echoed in the quiet hotel room over my children.
Then, I let the words of that song wash over me.
“Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so. Little ones to him belong; they are weak but he is strong…”
I lay there in the dark thinking of all my children—those in my arms and those not. My heart ached as he kept singing the song, “Yes, Jesus loves me! Yes, Jesus loves me!” I prayed that my children always know to the depths of their hearts that Jesus loves them. That they would yearn to discover more and more of the heart of Jesus as He lavishes them with His love. That they would experience and embrace the slow work of God on their own journeys with Him. That they would live loved.
Then I felt the holy nudge to hold the words of an often labeled “children’s song” for myself and for others—Jesus loves me, this I know.
How do we embrace the love of Jesus for ourselves each day?
Where is the love of Jesus when all seems broken in our life and world?
Does Jesus love us when our family breaks open?
Does Jesus love us when we doubt His goodness on this earth?
Does Jesus love us when we don’t feel His love?
Does Jesus love us when when all seems hopeless?
Does Jesus love us when we seem too distracted to notice Him?
Yes.
The answer, will always be a simple, resounding, yes.
Our lives are not simple and often hold such complicated, painful situations in life. But what if we let the simplicity of His love fill in where our human nature wants to grasp for control, fear, comfort, and answers?
The love of Jesus will always be louder than the most deafening, despairing circumstances.
The love of Jesus will always shine through the shattered pieces of life.
The love of Jesus will always surround us—going before the pain, catching us from behind when we collapse in grief, and be on either side of us, holding our arms that feel void of the dreams we thought we’d hold on this earth.
The love of Jesus will always—
heal,1
never betray,
embrace our crippling fears,
hold no expectations,
surprise us,
pursue us.
Jesus loves me.
Jesus loves you.
Jesus loves us.
May we always know, even when we think we don’t.
Healing may take the form of what our prayers desire, but it also may take on a form that we never expected. Healing may be redefined for us and may look so different than what we imagined it to be—here on earth or when we embrace Jesus in heaven.




Great read Brianna, opening crevices of memory of my youth when Dad would sing this and many Hymns on our family road trips. And as he would guide me to sleep we would sing a duo of, "Jesus Tender Shepherd Hear Me"......bless Your little lamb tonight, etc.......Thank you and the melody will be with me as I go about the day. Amen.
Beautiful subject and writing! Thank you, Brianna, Susan