Rescued Archives – Facets of Faith

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.

What am I going back to? I’ve been sitting with this question for quite some time. I read Tracy’s encouraging post about returning to her life after a season of challenge, embracing new and old things she enjoys and feels called to do. You can read it here. Then I read Jen’s thought-provoking post about returning to her past and using 5 questions to embrace deeper healing. Check hers out here.

As for me, nothing much was making sense until I realized the answer was staring me straight in the eye.

Literally. Two precious dark-brown puddles of love watching me type.

World – meet Cynthia or, as we call her, Scout.

I’m a pet owner again, for the first time in over six years, and it’s so.much.fun.

Scout is the most loving, patient, laidback dog I’ve ever met, let alone owned. She rarely barks, loves belly rubs, and is usually found within a couple of feet of me, often snuggling close to my feet.

Scout is also a rescue dog. Several weeks ago a friend posted her picture in search of a foster family to take her in. My husband and I had been talking about adopting a dog, but we weren’t sure how the kids would do with a dog, or how a dog would handle them. When I saw my friend’s post, I realized fostering might be a great way to test the waters.

Yeah, I know. You see where this is going, don’t you?

After I made arrangements to pick Scout up one morning, I realized I was nervous. It had been a long time since I owned a dog, and I was hesitant to let one into my heart again.

My first dog was a Dachshund named Otto. I was a baby and don’t remember him at all, only stories of him chasing me which quickly prompted my parents to find him another home. Twenty-six years passed until Abby, a golden retriever, strolled into my life through my first marriage. She was older, sweet, and fairly laid back. Abby died peacefully under a tree at friend’s house while we were on vacation a few years later.

Then came Lady, a beautiful Sheltie who quickly adopted my youngest daughter, Emma, as her buddy. Wherever Emma was, Lady was nearby. It made sense then, in a way, that Lady died in the same fire that took Emma’s life. (You can read more about that here)

About a year after our life turned inside out, I learned of a rescue, Beauty. She could’ve been Lady’s older sister. We cared for her through her final years of life until she died a little over six years ago.

Heart-wrenching, I know. To become attached to a pet only to have it die, not once but three times. What in the world was my husband thinking when he mentioned getting a dog?

Sometimes I wonder.

Didn’t he know how difficult it was going to be to enjoy another pet? Didn’t he know the pain it could cause? The worry? The work? The poop-clean up?

But when I saw her picture on my friend’s page, asking for a foster family, something stirred in me and before I knew it, I responded we’re interested!

A rescue.

I know what it means to be rescued. I know the depths of loneliness and fear. I know the pain of regret and disappointment. I know the darkness of grief and loss. I know what it’s like to be cast aside, to be lost and desperately in need of compassion and care, to be wanted, just as I am.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed. Psalm 34:18, NLT

But I also know what it’s like to meet the One who loves me so much that He sent His Son to earth to make a way back to Him (Ephesians 2:5). The One who lavishes His love over me (Deuteronomy 7:9, NLT). The One who calls me by name (John 10:3).

I know these truths, but sometimes I forget. I forget the depth of God’s love for me.

And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. Ephesians 3:18, NLT

I forget that He delights in me (2 Samuel 22:20) as I begin to work and strive, hoping to earn His affection as if I’m reminding Him why I’m worth loving. I glance at my schedule and see good work after good work until exhaustion sets in. And when exhaustion takes hold, the whispers of the enemy growl loud.

You’re worthless.

Why would anyone want to hear what you have to say?

If they really knew you and what you’ve done, what you’ve thought . . . they’d all walk away.

Accusation tumbles over accusation as my worth falters under the weight of lies. Finally, when the pressure feels too great to carry, I turn with head low and eyes down, hopeful that God will take me back. That He’ll allow me to return to the safety of His wings.

His voice begins to speak louder than the lies.

I love you. (1 Thessalonians 1:4)

You are mine. (Isaiah 43:1)

There is nothing that will ever change that. There is nothing that can every snatch you away. (John 10:28)

I delight in you simply because you’re my daughter.

For the Lord your God is living among you. He is a mighty savior. He will take delight in you with gladness. With his love, he will calm all your fears. He will rejoice over you with joyful songs.” Zephaniah 3:17, NLT

Yes, I definitely know what it’s like to be rescued, to be restored and welcomed into God’s family not as a guest or a foster, but as a full-fledged daughter of the King. And as His daughter, I’m learning that He delights in me, longs to give me good things, and not only redeems the places in my heart that have been broken by loss and sin, but restores them as well.

And sometimes it shows up in the form of a precious pup named Scout.

What truth or characteristic about God do you need to return to? Join the conversation by posting below or heading over to our Facebook page to share. We’d love to hear from you!

Rescued from Shame

A Rescue, Grace, and Coming Back to Truth