I Love You Jesus

Sunday morning, September 1, 2013

I sat on my front porch gazing up at the awesome blue of space. You know the space that goes on for eon of miles.

 Some say that Jesus lives far away beyond the blue space.  “But, Jesus, I know you are not far away for You live in my heart.” I said. The thought was overwhelming. How could it be that the creator of the universe could abide in me, just a weak worm of the dust?   My eyes filled with tears, I breathed out, “I love you, Jesus.”  Then my mind went leapfrogging from scene to scene of experiences we had together.  “I have loved you since I was five years old,” I whispered. “I loved you before you came to live in my heart.”

I don’t remember much of my early childhood.  However, I do remember that Jesus became real to me just before my sixth birthday.

In April of that year, I had polio (poliomyelitis) and it left me crippled. Two bouts with pneumonia that winter had weakened my immune system. Therefore, when an epidemic of polio broke out in Oklahoma City, I became a victim.  After the fever and suffering ended, I wanted to get up and play. Mamma helped me out of bed, but I could not stand. Later I realized that I could not crawl. I could only roll to get where I wanted to go. Mamma would carry me out on the porch so I could watch other children playing.

My biggest disappointment was thinking, I would not be able to attend school. I had wanted to go to school since my sister Bob started two years ago. During the days as I lay on a quilt and watched other children playing, I hoped to play again someday. That September day in 1941 when I walked to school, and ran with the other children during recess, I knew Jesus was real. He had healed me.

 He came into my heart two years later when. I was eight years old. We lived in a two-story house and my bedroom was on the second floor. I crawled out of bed and went downstairs to my mother’s bed.

In the darkness, I stood beside my sleeping parents. Those parents I loved beyond measure. I hated to awake them, because they were tired from working to care for my three siblings and me. Now they were resting. I hesitated and almost turned to leave, when my mother sensing my presence spoke, “What you want, Dink?”

Trembling, I said, “I wanta be saved?”

Mamma prayed with me and Jesus came into my heart that night. Oh, the lightness and happiness I felt as I returned to my bed!

That was 70 years ago. I thought at the time that I couldn’t love Jesus more, but my love for Him has grown with every experience until now my love is too deep to express. How desperately I wish I could help others understand the depth of my love. However, I cannot, for there are no words to express it. 

The only way to understand  my relationship with Jesus is to experience it.

“Thank you Jesus, for loving me all these years.”