Coming to My Rescue

 Squealing brakes and the thud of a slammed car door followed by an angry, bellowing male voice abruptly drowned out our quiet conversations. The usual laughter and pleasantries of church potluck vanished. Furious accusations escalated into violent shoving. The recipient of the anger, a tiny teenager, tried unsuccessfully to escape.

From my distant vantage point, I was too far away to protect her. Racing into the community room, I frantically searched for the father of the teen.

“A young man is yelling and pushing your daughter in the breezeway!” I exclaimed.

That was all he needed to hear.

The father asked no questions. With coattails flying and brown shoes beating the ceramic tiles, this usually reserved giant of a man was out the door in a flash. There was no time to waste. His precious daughter was in danger. And that’s when I caught a new picture of God.

 As a child, I often gazed at a picture of Jesus, the Good Shepherd, inching His way over the ground on His stomach. With outstretched arms, He’s reaching for His lost lamb, quivering on a narrow ledge of a steep precipice. I always imagined a slowly moving Shepherd, quietly taking His time so as not to frighten the lamb.

 But at that moment, I saw God’s fierce reaction to the sound of my cries for help. Gone are the slow, cautious movements. He drops everything. He snatches up the hem of His robe as His sandals fly across the ground. God races to my rescue! When I cry to Him, He responds instantly and without hesitation. It doesn’t matter whether my choices are the cause of my problems or not. That can be sorted out later. What does matter is His rescuing me from imminent danger just as that father rescued his daughter that day in the church breezeway.

 It is this new picture of my heavenly Father, running immediately to my aid, that I will remember. When problems envelop me, when danger overwhelms me, when the enemy seems to outdistance me, I can be sure that God is my Rescuer.

 Judy-Ann Neal.