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.
