What has God rescued you from? Archives

This month at Facets of Faith we’ve been answering the question “what has God rescued you from?”. Tracy and Jen each shared already —be sure to check out their posts by clicking on their names! If you don’t want to miss out, subscribe by sharing your email in the box to the right. Now, it’s my (Kim) turn!

The image slowly took shape in my mind’s eye. A little girl huddled in the corner. Alone. Scared. Dressed in rags she looked with longing at the banquet table spread out before her. Food filled every inch as the place settings were gilded in gold. She longed to join the feast but shame kept her hidden, and hopelessness kept her silent.

Pulling at her clothes, she wondered how to ease the ache in her stomach. The hunger for more. The longing to be loved and accepted.

Shame hissed in her ear again —you’ll never be loved. Look at what you’ve done. All that’s happened to you. You’re too damaged, too broken, too much. Her head hung lower, touching her knees. For a moment she wished the floor would simply swallow her whole if nothing else but to put an end to the despair.

Have you heard the whisper of shame before? The embarrassment over past decisions, whether yours or those who belonged to someone else? Maybe you’ve not only heard the whisper, you’ve been told that you’re too broken, too damaged, too much to deal with. Like the little girl in my dream, you hunkered down in the corner feeling unwanted, unnoticed, unloved and watched as the party unfolded.

I lived that way for quite a while —it looked like I was at the party but in reality I sat in rags like the little girl, tucked away in the corner listening to the lies that my brokenness was beyond healing as life drained from my bones. Death. Loss. Hopelessness.

I am dying from grief; my years are shortened by sadness. Sin has drained my strength; I am wasting away from within.” Psalm 31:10

The good news is that I didn’t stay there. Jesus rescued me not only from my sin, but from the shame that hushed my voice and caused me to believe I wasn’t good enough to sit at the table.

Because while I am not good enough (“For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of God’s glorious standard.” Romans 3:23), He is. There’s nothing I can do to “save” myself. There aren’t enough good deeds to perform or right living to live or pretending life is something it’s not. Only Jesus can save me.

He reached down from heaven and rescued me; he drew me out of deep waters.” 2 Samuel 22:17

Christ suffered for our sins once for all time. He never sinned, but he died for sinners to bring you safely home to God. He suffered physical death, but he was raised to life in the Spirit.” 1 Peter 3:18

He rescued me from death and hopelessness. He rescued me from a life half-lived, from believing my broken heart makes me somehow “less than”, from trudging through the sludge of lies thinking that was all I deserved.

I waited patiently for the Lord to help me, and he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along.” Psalm 40:1-2

He not only rescued me from the despair that tried to trip me, He filled me with hope that sees beyond my circumstances —beyond my past and my present so I have strength to peer into the future and a life spent with God in eternity. He heals every broken piece and makes something new, something beautiful, something uniquely His that brings Him glory and restores my soul.

Those who look to him for help will be radiant with joy; no shadow of shame will darken their faces.” Psalm 34:5

I think about that little girl huddled in the corner. I imagine the moment Jesus noticed her. Or perhaps, the moment she noticed Him. Eyes cast down a pair of feet suddenly before her. Maybe she felt Him before she saw Him, that wave of something she couldn’t quite explain. A glimmer of hope? A rush of peace?

Slowly she lifted her eyes, hesitantly, fearfully. She wondered if maybe she’d finally been found out and was about to be caste aside, thrown out like with the garbage.

Instead, she notices a hand reaching out to her. A dark hand worn from work, scarred and gentle. Waiting. Her own little hand reaches up, touching the rough skin as His fingers wrap protectively around hers. Before she knows it, she’s on her feet, wrapped in his warm embrace. Love fills her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Grace washes the tears that stream down her cheeks.

But He doesn’t stop there. He steps back and removes his robe, a robe that glimmers like diamonds. White. Pristine. She thought he was wise to do that, she didn’t want to dirty it with her rags. In a split second she realized he’s not removing it to be kept clean, he’s wrapping it around her shoulders. His righteousness becomes hers as the shame is replaced with hope.

I am overwhelmed with joy in the Lord my God! For he has dressed me with the clothing of salvation and draped me in a robe of righteousness.” Isaiah 61:10a

She begins to realize He’s still not done. She would be satisfied with His robe lovingly wrapped around her shivering body. But there’s more. So much more. He tenderly leads her toward the place she longed for —the banquet table. Pulling out a chair He guides her to sit and enjoy the goodness He has for her.

And she weeps with joy that can’t be contained as she joins the feast. Her heart and soul satisfied and filled with gratitude.

I pray that your hearts will be flooded with light so that you can understand the confident hope he has given to those he called —his holy people who are his rich and glorious inheritance.” Ephesians 1:18

We love to hear from you! If God has rescued you, can you tell us how? You can comment below or jump over to our Facets of Faith Facebook page and join the conversation.

Hey, friend! Welcome to our April topic: What has God rescued you from? This month started off with a heart-felt share from Tracy, and I can’t wait to hear from Kim and our guest author the next two weeks. Check in Tuesday mornings here or at our Facebook Page—April promises to be a celebration of the rescue mission our Daddy-God planned from the beginning of time. For every single one of us!

I (Jennifer) sit quietly in my caffeinated hidey hole, pre-Resurrection Day, and I’m in awe of the intricate strands braided at the cross on Friday. Deepest love, excruciating pain, and hours of suffering twist tightly, not that different from the crown of thorns pressing on Jesus’ brow. Then Friday’s crusty, blood-red thorns were exchanged for a gilded crown forever on Sunday morning. He came, lived, and loved! And the rescue mission was victorious when Jesus rose from the dead and opened the way to eternal life for us all.

A Resurrection made possible by—
Resurrection: God’s power on display. How beautiful! It’s amazing and almost inconceivable—the God of the universe unseated himself from heaven’s perfection, stooped down to humanity’s messy condition, and bore immeasurable pain—all on a rescue mission for the rebel horde (all of us!). The resurrection power could never be, though, without the crucifixion on Friday. That’s a “no-brainer” in one sense, but have you seriously thought about it? We might be tempted to leap past the ugly, bloody, rugged cross to chocolate bunnies and brightly-colored eggs. And that would be natural, I suppose. Certainly the images of the two days and the way we observe them stand in stark contrast.

The rescue mission began in rough, 1-Star accommodations in a manger setting, and included all 33 years of Jesus’ life. Now we zero in on the final week of his life; it culminated in a battle that shook the heavenly realms and a victory for the Christ, the King of all.

Me—like it never happened…
So, how did this rescue mission work out for me, personally? I thought about it earlier this week. A friend gave me a fantastic story idea: What if I met my earlier self down the road from age 23, but the self who chose not to identify with Christ? (Think: parallel universe.) What would happen if the seeds in my younger self had germinated and grown and bloomed? That could reveal what I was rescued from, couldn’t it?

What might’ve been…
I imagine meeting myself at a very different hidey hole.

[Insert 80s television show wavy lines preceding an alternate reality here.]

She’s at a dark corner table taking a short break from a string of two-steps, double-twos, swings, and line dances. A freshly starched southwestern button-down, faded Wranglers, an oversized, silver buckle, and beat-up twenty-five-year-old boots. She looks put-together and fits right into her environment—perfect for playing the game.

A little unsteady on her feet by 10 o’clock with several Bartels & Jameses down the hatch, but she has some of her wits about her. Bottles gather in the middle of the table. An equal number of men wonder how they could buy her a drink and be ignored. She’s not going down that road.

Men are heartache and trouble. There’s no cowboy riding to the rescue. There never was, her inner voice hisses.

She wipes the sweat from a new bottle and offers the man a nod and flashes a disinterested raised brow. The fifth quizzical look chalked up. Another brick and mortar in the wall.

Heartbreak is on her face. The losses are big: children (by choice), her home (by her fiery temper), cars (by repeated “accidents”). The pain and abuse scrawled all over her story shows. Anger, stress, and bitterness fold into every wrinkle. There’s no inquisitive, interested-in-life-and-learning look on her face. It’s sour lemons never made into anything. It’s distrust and disgust.

Colored and carefully styled hair frames her face, and dark emotion seethes behind perfectly made-up green eyes. Appearances are everything. They work for her. But the attractive appearance is in contrast to her social presence once she opens her mouth. She’s all sunshine or summer storm. She chooses word weapons from the arsenal carefully. If anyone hangs around, her grit and salt grinds until their rash begs tending. No one hangs around long. Verbal bricks in the wall against the world.

The “Principle of the Least Interest” is still in play. She works relationships the way she buys cars.

Never let ‘em know how interested you are. You never experience loss or pain publicly if nobody knows. Prepare to walk away. No commitment is safe. It’s better there’s no commitment.

She’s been through loads of “test drives” without signing her life away. Not surprising. The wall is thick. Impenetrable. Unless she wants it.

[End Scene]

Rescued!
Want to know what I was rescued from? I imagine it’s all that and more. No doubt, my hard places could have etched deep creases. Abuse could take its toll. Sad life choices could take over. More importantly, all of it could become deeply-ingrained pathways in the mind, keeping me prisoner to the thought life they drove. The relational patterns, life choices, and conceit could have become a lifestyle merry-go-round. The use of words could’ve been the same and very different. (Different vocabulary, for sure!)

I imagine the internal and external looking different and dark, but something gnaws at me.

What was I really rescued from?
I was rescued from what might’ve been and more! The seething emotional pain, relational distance, and all-about-me ego was part of it, but there was something deeper. The rebel in me at the DNA level stood in futile opposition to God (hot, angry, spewing obscenities, fists clenched, for sure!). That, my friend, could only mean one thing: Jesus could have granted my wish to be separate from the God I didn’t know or want. That’s not what he would have wanted, but in this case, we can have what we want.

[They perish] because they did not accept the love of the truth in order to be saved. 2 Thessalonians 2:10b CSB

[I]t is not the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones perish. Matthew 18:14

Friend, Jesus rescued me from ME. Daddy-God used every event in life to show me how sweet life could be when I was rescued from certain death to real life with Jesus.

For God loved the world in this way: He gave His One and Only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16

I give them eternal life, and they will never perish—ever! No one will snatch them out of My hand. John 10:28

Thanks for reading along. We’d love to hear your rescue story. Pop a comment below or visit our Facebook Page. If you believe FACETS is worth sharing, we’d love that, too.

Want to talk more about the rescue? Contact us.

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