Bridge in Northside Park at twilight - 8.6.2013

Bridge in Northside Park at twilight -storm coming

Two months have passed since my beloved’s first surgery, elective.

Second, emergent.

Third, pneumonia that scared me to tears in the woman I love best in all the world as she enters her tenth decade.

Love Idol author Jennifer Dukes Lee, who cradles truth in her writing as watchfully as a mama bird on her nest,  says it best:

      “I’ve just got to know it, way under my ribs. I’ve got to know that He’s enough.”

I have written a dozen posts in my head and they’ll come pouring out in time. Good things, good times. Road trips and family celebrations and worship with church kin who have my heart.

But for today? Now? This minute?

My friend Jennifer has said yes to letting me share her words with you. Because maybe today, now, this minute, you need them too. This post first appeared on www.JenniferDukesLee.com. You can find it all right here.

Here are her words that have gone ’round the world in recent weeks.


“I’ve got to believe it when I look at these lists, and this calendar, and that conflict, and these unknowns breathing hot down my neck. I’ve got to believe it on those days when I’m prone to drag my worry around.

I’ve got to believe He’s enough when I’m hanging on too tight, hanging on for dear life. I’ve got to know that it’s okay to just. let. go … and know for sure that He’ll catch me.

I’ve got to know that the God who holds all time in His hands? That He will hold even me.

Friend, God really does have this.

“God’s Got It.” That’s what my favorite farmer says here, almost daily, on this farm. It’s been his mantra for as long as he’s worked those fields. His philosophy for farming has become a theology for living. God is God, and God is good, and God has actually “got it.” 

This is not just a cute catch-phrase, but an actual way to habitually remember that there is a King in Heaven who holds all things together — even when life stings.

When worry. When cancer. When inadequacy. When pain. When drought. When storm.

That’s when He’s got it. Always.

We repeat it to ourselves, on the bad crop years, and when the diagnoses come, and when we’ve gathered in hospice rooms, and over hospital beds, and in ugly days of wild uncertainty. It’s true: What we say to ourselves, and to one another, can determine whether we will live imprisoned or free. Because dark days will come. In this world we will have trouble, but what did Jesus say? “Take heart, for I have overcome the world.”

So we tell it to each other, over and over again: God’s got it.

It’s why we return to the table of grace with the cup and the loaf. “Do this in remembrance of me,” are the words etched into the altar. We return and remember and receive and repent and repeat. God’s Got It. He has actually and miraculously overcome the world.

We believe this—

that Jesus was born of the Holy Spirit, that He came to Earth, and that He died on a cross, … and that when Satan was laughing and the disciples were running scared, God actually and miraculously still had it.

– that Jesus was wrapped in a cloth and buried in a tomb, and a stone was rolled into place. And when His followers grieved and saw nothing but darkness, God still had it.

– that on the third day, in opposition to the laws of nature, Jesus rose from the dead, and ascended into heaven. Because — please hear me here — God most assuredly had it.

– And we believe that our King is seated at the right hand of the Father, because it’s true: Our God has still completely and mercifully “got it.”

Even in the middle of our worst days.

We may watch a bad situation turn into an impossible situation. Some of it will defy logic. From time to time, God will let us in on the reasons why. And other times? He won’t.

But He is still our Lord, because He already sent a Savior.  

It’s as true today as it was 2,000 years ago in Calvary: Our God who had it then, has got it now, and forevermore shall have it.

{ And even I don’t get it, God has still got it. }

– JENNIFER DUKES LEE,  by permission

Argentina cross