Advent – Love – Day 24

Youngest Daughter last week: “Mom, I don’t ever remember learning ‘Jesus Loves Me.’ I’ve just always known it.”

I asked her, “Where do you think you learned it?”

“You probably sang it to me when I was a baby,” she replied.

She went on. “I wonder where that song came from. Did you sing it when you were little?”

“Of course. Everyone knew it.”

But that wasn’t good enough. “When was it written?” she asked.  “The 1950s or 60s?”

No, sweet girl. I’m pretty sure it was a banger way before then.

We looked it up.

The song sung by weary mothers while rocking their babies was originally a poem written in 1859 by Anna Bartlett Warner. 

The song sung by eager preschoolers in children’s church first appeared within an 1860 novel called Say and See, written by Warner’s older sister, Susan.

The lyrics of the last song ever performed by Whitney Houston, who gave an impromptu appearance before her untimely passing, were placed in the novel as a comforting poem to recite to a dying child.

William Bradbury set the lyrics to music in 1862 and added the familiar chorus:

Yes, Jesus loves me.

Yes, Jesus loves me.

Yes, Jesus loves me.

The Bible tells me so.”

Such a childlike song. After all, it’s usually just the kids who sing it. When’s the last time you’ve heard it during a Sunday service that didn’t somehow feature the children?

It’s just too simple for the rest of us learned and theologically high-minded individuals. We’ve graduated to more complex songs appropriate for adults:

This is how I fight my battles.

This is how I fight my battles.

This is how I fight my battles.

This is how I fight my battles.

This is how I fight my battles.

This is how I fight my battles.

This is how I fight my battles.

This is how I fight my battles.”

Is that enough times? Yeah, I think so. Now what’s next?

It may look like I’m surrounded but I’m surrounded by you.

It may look like I’m surrounded but I’m surrounded by you.

It may look like I’m surrounded but I’m surrounded by you.

It may look like I’m surrounded but I’m surrounded by you.”

The song “Surrounded (Fight My Battles)” was written by Elyssa Smith, a member of the worship staff at UPPERROOM, a church based in Dallas, Texas. At one time, Smith served as the worship leader at the church’s Denver location.

The first line is repeated 28 times, and the second comes in at 17.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not knocking the song—I’ve got it on some playlists, and I crank it up when the need hits. Just don’t say “Jesus Loves Me” is too simple for adult worship services, especially where the lyrics are concerned.

Remember the words? I figure you do. Even lots of people who aren’t religious know that famous first verse.

You’ll not see “Jesus Loves Me” listed as a chart-topping Christmas hit, either, but it also works.

You see, Baby Jesus is the star of the Christmas season, literally, and kids absolutely love that. 

He’s one of them—just a kid. A child. They also learn that He’s the King of all creation, but for the Christmas season, Jesus is a baby, and kids understand that side of Jesus’s humanity better than the adults in the room.

You see, they’re not so far removed from their very first memories.

Mine are distant, but it’s a combination of three primary images: bottle-feeding a baby calf, being carried through Rock City and Ruby Falls by my father, and standing outside my home on a sidewalk. 

I remember feeling so big and yet so small. 

I took up very little space and all the space. I could fit in the floorboard behind the passenger’s side of my grandmother’s plush green Chrysler, while my little sister occupied the nook behind the driver’s seat.

I could curl up in the kitchen cabinets.

I could fit inside my toy box.

If I had wanted to, I could have crawled inside the manger in the diorama at church.

But that was Baby Jesus’s spot.

There was so much I could do, yet I remember staring up at the adults as if they were giants, and I hoped that they would be good to me.

Protect me.

Keep me safe.

“Little ones to Him belong. They are weak but He is strong.”

Remember what it was like?

To feel weak? To feel like you needed protection?

Someone to stand up for you, to speak up for you, to carry you when you had no more strength?

To calm you when you were upset?

To feed you when you were hungry?

To hold you when you needed comfort?

To love you like you belong to them?

Maybe you still feel that way, but in our big adult minds and with our big adult bodies, we think we can take care of everything. 

There’s a reason why Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3 NIV).

Oh, how we forget our place.

Let the manger remind us that the Son of God came to the world through the most humble circumstances.

Let it remind us that He understands all that it means to be human, from the time as a little child all the way to completing His earthly mission.

And when you see those “little ones”–the babies dressed as sheep and cows, the squirming shepherds nudging each other with their staffs, the little girl playing Mary, all dressed in blue and guarding the baby doll in a manger, while the little boy playing Joseph is digging around in his nose for boogers—remember that Jesus sees them.

He loves them.

He loves you, too.

How do I know?

It’s kind of funny, but I feel like I’ve always known it.

Plus, the Bible tells me so.

“As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love.”

John 15:9 NIV

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Reflection and Prayer: Some truths don’t need to be complicated to be profound. “Jesus loves me” is one of them. It’s often the first thing we learn about God—and sometimes the easiest thing to forget once we grow confident in our own strength. Pray for your faith to become simple again, and rest in Jesus’s love for you. You may not understand it fully, but you can trust it completely.