I Believe


This particular Sunday afternoon you can find me camped out in my bedroom, reading and listening to music, taking some downtime at the beginning of the week. Andrew Peterson is the artist whose music has captivated me today, mostly because I was humming one of his songs to myself this morning. Now I have that one song playing over and over, reveling in the simplicity and beauty of the lyrics, the sweetness of the music, and the wonder of the truth. The song is called “The Good Confession” or more simply “I Believe.”

The whole song is a testimony of a life committed to God. A life that was surrendered at a young age. A life that revolves around one simple sentence, one refrain that reminds the Christian of the Gospel. And the chorus proclaims:

I believe He is the Christ, Son of the Living God.

The Christ. The Son of the Living God. What powerful words! At my church back home, this confession (with the additional words “my LORD and my Savior,” which are also in Peterson’s song, just not in the chorus) is fairly common. We hear the words repeated as visitors become members, as new believers step forward to be baptized, as our pastor reminds us of Peter’s words to Jesus: “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.” And to my shame, these words seem to lose their power over time.

But when I turn up my music and sing along with Andrew Peterson, the words once again come alive. And I believe He is the Christ, Son of the Living God. Jesus of Nazareth is my Savior and my LORD. He has given me everything, and I offer my broken life to him in return. I remember being 8 years old and walking up the aisle of my church, flanked by my parents, my extended family in the pews. I remember trembling before the hundreds of people in front of me. I remember the smile of the youth minister, who had preached that morning. I remember speaking that sentence. I remember disappearing behind the stage and changing into a baptismal robe. I remember Dad taking me into the water and burying me in it. I remember Mom blow drying my hair afterwards. I remember eating lunch at Fazoli’s and having my family celebrate with me. I’m pretty sure I went to church camp for a week right after that, then headed out of town to visit my grandma. I don’t know for sure. It’s been a long time. But there is one thing that I know, that I too often forget the significance of, but that I will always remember: I believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God, my LORD and my Savior.”


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