Remind Me…Oh, Jesus, Remind Me

I’m not much of a country music fan. I have a pretty wide interest in music, but after years of hearing nothing but country music pouring from my older sisters’ room and car stereos, I got sick to death of it. Occasionally, I’ll find a country song I like, but only rarely. One artist I tend to like, though, is Brad Paisley. And one of his songs, a duet with Carrie Underwood, caught my attention one day. I wasn’t sure why. I liked the tune, and I liked the words, but the title kept eating away at my mind.

It’s a song filled with dreaming, a song filled with longing. The man begins singing to his beloved, reminiscing about the past, about the things they did when their love was fresh and young. The things he misses. Because years later, their passion is flickering out. And he doesn’t want it to. He wants to stir the fire of their love again, to reignite their passion for one another. After the chorus, she sings back, reminiscing about the things she misses, agreeing with him that their passion needs to be stirred up again. Letting him know that she desires this, too. “I wanna feel that way,” Brad sings, in one lyric. “Yeah, I wanna hold you close,” Carrie sings back. And together, they sing, “Oh, if you still love me, don’t just assume I know.” And their reply to one another, the key words of the chorus and the title of the song, is, “Remind me…oh, baby, remind me!”

I like the idea of this couple fighting to keep their passion strong, reminding one another of all the beautiful things that made them fall in love. Sometimes I think that a lot of couples just don’t want to fight, don’t want to try, for whatever reason. I’ve seen that a couple times in the marriages I’ve seen crumble—one partner just doesn’t want to fight for their marriage anymore. I loved the hope and the love that this song rang true with.

But I had an epiphany about this song one day. I realized that my heart has been crying out a similar message to Jesus. Suddenly, those words “Remind me” had a very personal meaning very different from the romantic message of the song. And realizing that, my eyes filled with tears.

This epiphany also reminded me of another song that has touched my heart, a song that is closer to the mark of what’s going on in my soul. “Remind Me Who I Am.” Jason Gray sings not to a woman, but to God Himself, crying out, “Tell me once again / who I am to You / who I am to you / tell me, lest I forget / who I am to You / that I belong to You.” I’d forgotten the effect this song “Remind Me Who I Am” had on me months ago (about a year ago, actually, when I first heard it), until I realized the effect “Remind Me” had on my soul. This song, too, brought tears to my eyes.

This has been a very emotional year for me. I’ve never cried this much in one year before—I was a pretty stoic child and teenage and very rarely cried, despite the pain I was in. But as I’ve gone through counseling, sifting through painful memories so I can heal, tears long hidden have finally been found. And one source of these tears is this: through my counseling, I’ve realized that for all these years I’ve called myself a Christian, I never really believed in the promises of God. Basic promises. The promises that form the pillars of the Christian faith. I read them again and again, year after year, and I never believed them. Not really. They were empty words in my head, not beliefs rooted in my heart.

I believed certain things. I believed God created the world. I believed the Bible was God’s word. I believed in heaven and hell. I believed that Jesus came to die for my sins. I believed that whoever believed in Jesus would go to heaven, and whoever didn’t went to Hell. But one thing I didn’t truly believe in has made all the difference in my life: I never truly believed that God loves me.

These past few years and months, through various people and various ways, God has been practically screaming against this lie I’ve believed: that God’s love is limited, fickle, and conditional. All this time, all throughout my life, I’ve kept wondering to myself, “Just how bad do I have to screw up before God gives up on me? Before He stops loving me?” But in reply, He has spoken the truth to me: “There is nothing you can do to make me love you less. And there is nothing you can do to make me love you more.” I don’t know how I couldn’t believe it, in hindsight. God’s love is written all over the Bible. Yes, there are some dark stories in the Bible. But even in stories of God’s wrath, God kept crying out how much He loves His people, and how He’d relent if they’d just repent and obey. All over, God speaks of how much He loves His people, and how much He loves the world, how His plan of salvation would not just reach the Jews but would stretch throughout the nations, through the Messiah. Through Jesus’ blood. The Bible screams God’s love to the world. To you. To me. God’s love for us is reckless, passionate, unlimited, constant, and unconditional.

Even so, I couldn’t see it. I read it again and again year after year, and yet I somehow thought that God’s love could reach anyone but me. And frankly, I still have a hard time believing it. This truth is just starting to grow in my heart. It’s a fragile sprout right now. I’m tending it with the utmost care, watering it with my tears, begging God to shine His light down, so it will grow. So this truth will grow strong in my soul. So it will grow taller than the highest redwood, stronger than the toughest manzanita. I’m praying that this truth will grow so strongly in my heart that I’ll never doubt it again. The truth that God’s reckless, passionate, unlimited, constant and unconditional love is mine, and I can never lose it—no matter what I do, or do not do.

But with this is a host of other promises that I didn’t really believe in. Promises like, “The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love” (Psalm 103:8). “‘I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future'” (Jeremiah 29:11). I could go on and on. That God will provide for me. That God will take care of my needs. That God will give me wisdom. That God will protect my heart and mind. That God will guide me. That God can turn my mess into a beautiful message. That God will give me second chances when I fail. That God will lead me closer to Him. I didn’t truly believe any of these beautiful promises.

I’m just barely beginning to truly believe God’s promises. And I realized that was why these songs I mentioned touched me so deeply. Why those two words, “Remind Me,” were ringing in my mind for days. Just like a husband and wife need to remind one another of their love (daily!), I need to be reminded (daily) that God really does love me. That God really does fulfill His promises. For years I never believed them, but now that I’m beginning to believe, I know I have to be reminded constantly, to build my faith. But even now, I know that in the years to come, I’ll still need to be reminded again and again. I know that life isn’t done giving me heartache. I know that I’ll still have things to suffer through in the future, some minor pains and some pains that will overwhelm me. I’ll be stronger then, I know. God is strengthening me now—I’m stronger already than I was a year ago, even if I do cry more than ever. But I’ll still need to be reminded, both in general ways (like God fulfilling His promises to me) and ways very specific to my heart.

I honestly hope that a lot of this has, for whoever you are reading these words now, flown right over your head. But if they haven’t, I hope you can truly believe, deep within your soul, that these promises are true for you, too. If you have accepted Jesus into your heart, I challenge you to ask yourself, “Do I really believe God? Not just believe in God, but do I believe God? Do I truly believe that He loves me? And do I truly believe that He is faithful to His promises to me?”

And if you haven’t accepted Jesus as your savior, I’d ask you to ask God, “If you’re really up there, will You show me You are? Will You show me that You love me? Will You show me that You are faithful to these promises I’ve read about?”

Because either way, I can promise you, God is willing and eager to show You how much He loves you. I’m experiencing that right now. I can’t promise that He’ll answer your every question—I will probably never know why God allowed me to experience the pain I’ve experienced that brought me to this moment, and you probably never will, either. But I promise you that God will show you He really is faithful to His promises, and that He really does love you. I have many memories of pain and loneliness, but God has shown me that He was true to His promises, “I will never leave you, nor forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5) and, “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds” (Psalm 147:3). I don’t know how He’ll show you the promises you need to be reminded of…but I know He will.

My prayer is that eventually, I’ll lose the connection I have with these songs. That I’ll remember these feelings, but not feel them, anymore. That I’ll have a stronger connection with a different kind of song—maybe something more like, “His Kind of Love” by Group 1 Crew. (I’ll pray the same for you, reader.) But for now, my heart is still fragile in my learning, in my seeking, in my growing. And I know that I’ll be still crying out, “Oh, Lord! Remind me that You will never fail to fulfill Your promises to me. Oh God, show me You still love me—I can’t assume I truly know. Tell me once again that You love me, that I belong to You. That I am Yours. Remind me…oh, Jesus, remind me!”

The difference for me praying this prayer now, though, is this: I know—I’m truly beginning to believe—that God won’t be angry with me for asking. That God will delight in reminding me of His love. And I hope you truly believe, precious reader, that He delights in reminding you, too.