I recently read the back of a person’s T-shirt that said, “He gets me.” Because we were at a church function, I assumed it was some kind of Christian slogan. I considered that phrase and what it meant. Basically, what that T-shirt was saying was the more modern vernacular of “He understands me.” What an amazing thought that is! Especially as a woman who does not always understand herself, it is wonderful to know that God understands me. He understands why a pile of laundry can literally bring me to tears one day; and He understands why a pint of ice cream or a bag of popcorn sometimes seem like great dinner ideas. He even knows my thoughts before I think them.
As I pondered that statement a little more—overthinkers anonymous, feel free to raise your hands now—I thought about how broad sweeping that statement is for me. At my salvation, He gets me. Song of Solomon 2:16 says, My beloved is mine, and I am his… I love the songs “Now I Belong to Jesus” and “I Belong to the King,” which each carry an amazing thought. While I relish the idea that God is my Father, it is convicting to think about what God got in the deal upon my salvation. I got a perfect, heavenly Father; He got a flawed sinner. I got a Friend Who is always faithful and true; He got someone who is not always as committed to Him as she should be. I could continue with the examples, but I think most of us could fill in those blanks. I know God did not provide salvation for what He would get out it any more than a mother has a child for what she will get out of it; however, I want His investment in me to be worth it. I believe this is why Romans 12:1 tells us, I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service. It is not unreasonable to give our lives as living sacrifices in return for God’s investment in us.
God loves us; He understands us; and He gets us. We get all of Him when we get saved. Would it not be fitting for Him to get all of us, too?
by Vicki Voorhis