Have You Forgotten What You Know

What does it really mean to say, "I know that my Redeemer lives"?

In this episode, we're taking a closer look at one of the most beloved hymns in the LDS faith, I Know That My Redeemer Lives, and the powerful message it offers when life isn't unfolding the way we hoped.

The hymn was inspired by Job's declaration, "For I know that my redeemer liveth," spoken at a time when nearly everything in his life was falling apart. Job didn't know how his story would end. He didn't know why he was suffering. Yet he knew something more important. He knew his Redeemer.

As mothers, especially when an adult child is making choices we don't understand, it's easy to focus on what we don't know. Will they come back? Will things work out? Will our family ever look the way we imagined? Yet this hymn gently redirects our attention from the uncertainty of outcomes to the certainty of Christ.

We'll explore the difference between believing and knowing, why that distinction matters, and how remembering what we already know about the Savior can change the way we show up in our relationships. We'll also talk about the phrase "No Empty Seats" and why that phrase bring heartache not hope. 

Most of all, we'll look at the repeated message throughout the hymn: He lives. He lives to love us, comfort us, plead for us, guide us, and carry burdens we were never meant to carry alone.

If you've been feeling weighed down by fear, worry, or responsibility for someone you love, this episode offers a reminder that you may not know how the story ends, but you can know the One who holds the story.

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Transcript

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What if the peace you're looking for isn't found in changing your child's choices, but in becoming more certain about what you already know? As parents, we spend so much energy trying to figure out what our child believes. But today, I want to talk about what you know. Because one of the most powerful hymns we sing, and one of my favorites, begins with these words. I know that my redeemer lives. Not I hope, not I think, and definitely not I wish, I know. Welcome to Open Conversations for LDS Moms. If you're an LDS mom who loves the church, but life or church doesn't feel as simple as it once did, you're in the right place. Here we talk openly about faith, motherhood, heartache, and finding peace when life looks different than you imagine. The pain we carry doesn't come from life itself, but from the thoughts and meaning we attach to it. I'm Sherry Lee, certified life coach and a mom. I am so glad we get to have these conversations together. This is episode 25. Have you forgotten what you know? Have you heard the phrase or possibly even said it, no empty seats. Maybe you've heard it, maybe it's been said to you, maybe it's something you think about. You might even be praying for it. I suppose it was meant to bring us comfort and something to strive towards. But I think we're using it against ourselves. And I don't think it brings the feeling of warmth and comfort that we're hoping for. It means that every seat is filled, no one is missing, and that is what we want here on earth so that we can have that eternal family. I don't think that phrase is being used the way maybe it was meant to be. We are using it to measure our success as parents. And every time there's an empty seat on our pew at church, or at family home evening, or in the temple, an empty seat at family gatherings, we're making it mean something has gone terribly wrong. We're believing that an empty seat today means an empty seat forever. And here's the thought that I want to come back to. The problem isn't that there's an empty seat. The problem is that we have forgotten who's in charge of the seating arrangement. And it's not us. The hymn, I know that my redeemer lives, was inspired by Job's declaration in Job 19.25, for I know that my redeemer liveth. What's remarkable is when Job said those words, his life wasn't going really very well or the way he thought it would be. He did not know how his story would end. He didn't know when his suffering would stop. He didn't know why God was allowing it, but he knew his Redeemer lived. That knowledge was something he could hold on to. And when answers seemed to be nowhere, he found comfort in knowing that his Redeemer lived. Sam Medley, who wrote the song I Know That My Redeemer Lives, turned Job's declaration into a personal testimony of a living Christ. It's eye-opening to realize that Job gained that certainty of knowing his Redeemer lives when his life wasn't going the way he assumed it would. Job's testimony sounds like, I know even though he hasn't answered in the way that I wanted, or I hoped he would, I still know he lives. What is the difference between belief and knowing? Belief says, I think it's true, I trust this is true, I'm choosing to move forward, even though I can't see everything. Belief is powerful. And sometimes I look at my testimony and wonder what is it that I know and what is it that I believe or I hope is true. And it changes over time, over seasons, depending on what I am personally going through. But there is one thing that I can testify that I know, and that is I know my Savior lives. That knowing comes from experience and evidence I've gathered over time. It's built through prayers answered, comfort received, promptings that I have followed, miracles that I've witnessed, and moments when God became unmistakably real to me. I know that my savior lives. And the women that I work with, they know that too. But the problem is they're living as though everything depends on them. If you know Christ lives, why do we carry the weight of being our child's saviors? Why do we spend so much time trying to control something that isn't ours to control? Why do I act as though my child's future rest squarely on my shoulders? We know he lives, but we feel like there's something we need to fix. If you know Christ lives, do you know that he loves your child? That he's aware of your family? Do you know his reach is longer than yours? When fear takes over, I think we forget about what we know. If you're a mom of adult children, you might be thinking, if my child comes back, then I'll be okay. Or if they change, then I'll have peace. If my family looks different than it does right now, then I'll feel successful. But if Christ lives, then he is actively involved in your child's story as well as yours. And he loves you and your loved ones. Have you ever looked back on an experience that you went through, maybe something difficult, and you see where he was working in your life and in the life of those you loved? Probably something you couldn't see in the moment. So can you believe that over and over? Know that he is working in places that you can't see right now. He's aware of things that we're not aware of. Can you put down that backpack of burdens and lay them at his feet? And trust and know that he lives and this is in his hands. I love knowing that we have heavenly parents whose abilities go beyond our understanding. That brings me so much peace and comfort in hard times and even in good times. It's just comforting to know that there is more going on than I can even comprehend. If you know Christ lives, how do you show up today? Not how do I get my child to change, but how do you show up today? Can you show up with peace instead of panic? How about curiosity instead of fear? Connection instead of correction. When we start showing up knowing he lives, we trust him more and we put our burdens at his feet and allow him to heal in ways that we can't. We can have confidence instead of desperation. We can hope instead of that constant worry, especially when we can't figure out or even see a way out of what's going on. Knowing changes our behavior and it changes the energy that we have. If we show up knowing that our Savior lives, we don't have that worry and that fear. But if you have a connection of love and trust, and that child doesn't feel like they're your project, they want that connection too, and they're more open to it. In the hymn I Know That My Redeemer Lives, Sam Medley doesn't just say I know once. He says it more than 25 times. I want to talk about the reasons he lives that Sam uses in that hymn. He lives to bless me with his love. He lives to plead for me above. He lives to calm my troubled heart. He lives my kind, wise, heavenly friend. He lives and grants me daily breath. Those are just a few of the reasons that he lives for us, the things that he is doing for us. And those are beautiful promises. And then he goes on to remind us of what else he's doing for us. He lives to love us, to help us, to plead for us, to calm us. He lives to guide us. He lives to carry what we were never meant to carry. So every time your life gives you another reason to worry, I want you to think about this hymn. It gives you reason after reason after reason to trust. There is so much comfort in trusting and knowing and believing in our heavenly parents and knowing what our Savior did. He lives. He came to save us. I recently heard a podcast that had Terrell Givens on as a guest. And there was something really amazing that he said that I want to talk about. He shared a story about W. H. Van Stone, who was an Anglican minister. He was also the author of the book Love's Endeavor, Loves Expense. And in that book, Van Stone refers to a conversation that he had with a medieval theologian who said something along the lines of, you have no idea what the cost of sin was. I used to fall into that camp of, I have to be better, do better, I don't want to cause my savior any more pain. But Van Stone pushed back on that idea and he said, You've got it wrong. You have no idea what the cost of love was. That is amazing to think about. It wasn't our sins, it was his love for us. Well, Givens goes on to say, we have every right to understand words like glory, sovereignty, and even God through the lens of our experiences. It's our own personal experiences that have helped us to know our Savior lives and see things in the way that we do. Van Stone went on to say, no one can take seriously the proposition that love means something different for God than it does for us. What does he mean by that? I have ached for my children, and I will continue to ache for my children at times. That love and that ache is something that God, our heavenly father, and our heavenly mother feel and know. If I want peace and truth and happiness for my children, they want that too. If I haven't forgotten my child, God definitely hasn't forgotten them either. If I continue to love my child through every hard circumstance, every disappointment, and every detour, then surely God's love is even greater than mine. And maybe that's why the words, I know that my Redeemer lives, bring so much comfort. Because a living Redeemer is still loving. He came because of love, not because God sent us to this earth and knew that we were going to screw it all up. Yes, he atoned for our mistakes, but he did it out of love, not because we are a mess. He is still reaching and pursuing and working, even when we can't see it. Sometimes listening is enough, and sometimes you're ready for more support. I want to invite you to a free connection and peace call with me. In our 25 minutes together, we'll talk about where you are, what feels hard right now. You believe with more hope, connection, and peace. You can find the link to schedule your free call below. And if these conversations matter to you, following, subscribing, and sharing the podcast helps more LDS moments find support. Feel seen, and know that they are not alone. Your story is not over. God is still working in ways you may not be able to see.