Facets of Faith

Rescued from Shame

04.17.2018 by Kim Findlay //

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.

Love and Rescue: What might’ve been—except…

04.10.2018 by Jennifer Howe //

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.

What Has God Rescued You From?

04.03.2018 by Tracy Stella //

Welcome to April with its promise of fresh spring flowers soon to follow. I’m looking forward to seeing new blooms bud, green grass come alive, and sunshine rays to warm my skin. You too?

I (Tracy) pray you had a beautiful Easter and are still basking in the hopeful glow of resurrection Sunday. Because Jesus died and rose from the grave defeating death and sin, we have good news to look forward to every day of our lives.

His resurrection rescued me and you, not just for yesterday and today, but for all time.

Heaven with Jesus sounds a whole bunch better than hell!

My grandma would have said, “The world is going to hell in a handbasket.” According to Wikipedia, that phrase describes a situation headed for disaster inescapably or precipitately.1

Hell is a disaster. However, it IS fully escapable.

Christ died so we wouldn’t have that dreadful destination in our future.

We all sin. We all need a Savior!

Maybe you are like I used to be. Easter meant chocolate bunnies, dyeing eggs, and baskets with way too much candy. Those things are all fine, of course, but they miss something very important. Rather, Someone. Jesus. The One who died to cover our sin. The One who died to save us. The One who loved (and loves) the world. Each and every one of us.

Periodically, as a little girl I would go to mass with my grandparents. I’d hear the adults echo the priest. “The Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. Have mercy on us.”

I followed along, not knowing what the refrain meant.

Lamb? What’s with the lamb? And why does grandma make that little lamb cake anyhow? I was always fond of its creamy frosting and coconut shavings, not to mention its moist, melt-in-your-mouth texture. We’d gather in her sunroom. She called it her solarium. Family tucked around the table, views of the farm on three sides, and weather permitting, a nice warm breeze through the open windows, sure to let the dust in from the over-sized U-shaped gravel drive.

Grandma cut into that cake and my taste buds danced in delight once its yummy goodness met my mouth.

At best growing up I was a Chris-Easter, and that not even every year. I went (sometimes) because that’s what people do on Christmas and Easter, even if they don’t understand why.

The little lamb cake symbolic of THE Lamb of God who took away our sin. If you haven’t dove deep into the old testament, you may not know that Jews had to sacrifice animals to atone for (a “fancy” way of saying cover) their sins. When the Israelites sinned, they needed to sacrifice an animal. (Gross, I know!)

I go into all that because I had asked someone who went to mass most of his life what the Lamb of God meant. He didn’t know either. We can’t assume just because we hear something, even repeatedly, that we know what it means.

Sometimes people do things merely because that’s what people do. Like follow the leader, everyone does it.

But God wants us to be critical thinkers. After all, He designed us with brains. He wants us to ponder. To dig in. To learn. To grow. To grow to know Him in and through it all.

The Lamb of God is Jesus. He was sacrificed on a cross. His death covered all our sin. All! Everything every one of us ever did (or will do). Nothing and no one is beyond the reach of His redemption.

Yes, He saved me from hell. But He saved me from so much more than that! Hell is significant, so I don’t want to skip over it. No one wants to go there! It’s a place of torment, weeping and gnashing of teeth (Luke 13:27-29). Our worst day here on earth is microscopic in its misery compared to what hell will be like for those who do not choose to surrender their lives to Jesus.

However, it’s His love for us that so clearly spells all that out in the Bible. He wants us to know, because He doesn’t want hell for any of us! Remember His proof? He was willing to die as proof of His love for us. (John 3:16)

He wants us safely tucked with Him as heaven descends upon earth and we spend all eternity with Him. No more sin. No more tears. Peace. Productive. A city bustling with activity. Toss any images out of your mind of floating on a cloud strumming harps. They’re just not true. But music is allowed. Oh, there will be music!

Read the Bible. Sit down with a friend. Process what you are learning together. Again, think critically. Ask questions. I still have some. It’s okay. It doesn’t mean I don’t believe in Jesus. It just means some things about faith are confusing … and they require, well, faith.

Imagine me sitting tucked under a blanket in a rubbed worn chair near a pile of books stacked precariously high, coffee always close at hand, and a journal handy to jot down prayers and process my thoughts. My feet propped on the chair’s partner, matching worn footrest, because sometimes it’s good to sit awhile. Oh, and I can’t forget my little dog Enoch who gets some quality cuddle time with me as I explore God’s Word each morning, reflecting on what it says and what it means in my life.

One of the best questions I have learned to ask is this:

What is that saying, God?

I pray before I read, asking for God’s help to understand what the Bible is saying, and what He is saying to me through it. I pray before writing these blog posts, because He knows who will read them and what each reader needs (and He knows what I need in the writing of it). Because I trust Him, I trust that process. And I trust the outcome to Him as well.

As I sat in my scruffy chair, the word stagnation came to mind as I thought about what God has saved me from.

What has God rescued me from? Stagnation! It kept surfacing. Then, the Pool of Bethesda (although I didn’t know why).

I sensed they were related. Stagnation. Pool of Bethesda.

What are you saying God?

God’s insights and instruction are good things to ponder, of course.

Putrefy, decay, rot

Synonyms for stagnation.

God saved me from decay and rot. A graphic picture of what His goodness has delivered me from.

Stagnate means

To cease to run or flow, as water, air, etc.
To be or become stale or foul from standing, as a pool of water.
To stop developing, growing, progressing, or advancing.
To be or become sluggish and dull.2

As I mulled these ideas over, I visualized a yellow-green, slime covered body of water. Without movement and current, water grows stagnant. It loses life. And stagnation can take life too. Little by little life loses vitality if we aren’t learning and growing.

I learn so much about who God is through Scripture’s pages. I also learn much about who I am and what He has for me as I read the Bible. Through its pages I receive healing and comfort, wisdom and direction. Life. I receive fresh life each day through its pages.

Sometimes, I walk away from my quiet time knowing I was changed because of what I read in Scripture that day. Sometimes, I walk away not knowing the significance in that moment. But when the need arises, I know the truth in God’s Word. I can draw upon His thoughts that live in the core of my heart and mind, because He placed them there a little at a time while we had coffee together each morning as the sun ushered in a new day.

Thoughts like, the Pool of Bethesda.

I’d read about it before. Lots of times. But I didn’t know what God wanted to say to me and you through it now. Fresh. Alive. Anything but stagnant.

You can read the entire account of the healing at the Pool of Bethesda in John 5:1-15. I encourage you to (even if you’ve read it many times). I’ve shared an excerpt below.

Some time later, Jesus went up to Jerusalem for one of the Jewish festivals. Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie─the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?”─John 5:1-6 NIV

Several things stood out to me as I read through this text. First, Jesus attended a Jewish festival. There’s lots of debate in the commentaries as to which one, so I’ll leave that lie for today. Jewish festivals in general, though, were religious celebrations. Easter is a religious celebration. Interesting timing that God would bring this Scripture forward to use in such close proximity to our Easter celebration.

There were five covered colonnades where the disabled used to lie─the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. Think of the five colonnades as an ancient infirmary. Commentaries referred to a medical hypothesis that the five areas were used to separate patients.3 Disease has a way of spreading. Sin too.

So, we’re situated near this ancient infirmary near the pool of Bethesda where a great number of disabled people used to lie.

When I think of my story, I think of how long I lay near the pool of Bethesda desperately in need of healing, but not ever grasping for the healing God was handing out to me. Salvation. My life preserver. But it took me awhile to grasp it.

But I eventually did. I used to lie near the Pool of Bethesda.

I used to lie there.

Eventually, I wanted healing. God helped me into the pool of His mercy. That’s what the Pool of Bethesda means, house of mercy.3 God’s mercy is not just a one-time deal. He extends it over and over to me (and you too). As I learn and grow with Him, He keeps teaching me. Stretching me. Stirring up the waters.

He asks this question: Do you want to get well?

Do you want to get well? For your soul’s sake. For your eternal destiny?

Do you want to get well? So you can be assured of who you are? Of who you are to Him?

Do you want to get well? So you can make a difference in others’ lives? Healthy people help people.

Do you want to get well? Because just like I copied my grandma not knowing why, our children and grandchildren DO follow our example.

Do you want to get well? Because you know in your heart life isn’t meant to be lived the way you’ve been living it? (Whether you know Christ or not.)

Do you want to get well? Because peace and healing has been purchased for us all by Jesus’ sacrifice.

When we don’t experience the good things of God as believers in Jesus Christ, we need to come back to Him each time and say, “Lord, help me to step into the Pool of Bethesda. I want to get well.”

“Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.”─John 5:7 NIV

When the waters were stirred at the Pool of Bethesda, that’s when the healing happened. If circumstances feel stirred up in your life, God wants to bring healing, comfort, and mercy to you too.

If you ever feel alone in your struggle, know that you are not. God is with you. He will help you get into the Pool of Bethesda when the waters stir. Trouble in our lives has a way of stirring us closer to Christ Jesus. Let Him extend His merciful hand to you. He’s stirring the waters of healing even now. Will you get in?

When the disabled man finally got in the pool, God healed him “at once”.

When I think of how quickly God has brought healing in my life and how far He has traveled with me, it makes my eyes water with emotion. Nothing short of a miracle how far He can bring a wounded soul. Not idle. Not strumming harps. Sometimes jumping hurdles. But a really good place. I’m grateful!

And I know He wants that for you too!

He brings us into His peaceful presence. He accepts us as we are but loves us far too much to leave us that way.

The man went away and told the Jewish leaders that it was Jesus who made him well.─John 5:15 NIV

I pray that is our story too. That we would each share how Jesus has made us well. It’s a process, not requiring perfection, but not settling for stagnation either. Whether we are saved six days or 60 decades, let’s not settle for stagnation.

Let’s step into the Pool of Bethesda, God’s house of mercy. If you want, we can wade in together.

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1 To hell in a handbasket. (2018, March 11). Retrieved April 02, 2018, from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/To_hell_in_a_handbasket

2 Stagnate. (n.d.). Retrieved April 02, 2018, from http://www.dictionary.com/browse/stagnate?s=t

3 Jamieson, R., Fausset, A. R., & Brown, D. (1997). Commentary Critical and Explanatory on the Whole Bible. Oak Harbor, WA: Logos Research Systems, Inc.