Rescued-something about that word fills my heart with gratitude and makes me swallow hard. Maybe it’s because I’m a woman and have dreamed all my life, as most little girls do, about being the princess in the movie that gets rescued by the heroic prince. I know, I know, there are some women that fight for women’s liberation and equality blah blah blah. Not this woman! I love being “handled with care,” getting to go first in line, having my door opened and not having to lift heavy things (unless I want to).
Once I was walking my dog near our home in Scottsdale and out of nowhere a huge German Shepherd was in front of me growling and barking at me and my little yorkie poo. He was getting closer and closer and all I could do was scream. Suddenly a man jumped over the high fence next to me and chased the dog off, made sure that I was alright and hopped back over the fence. He rescued me! I was so relieved.
This morning, during worship at church, I was flooded with emotion as I thought about how Jesus rescued me from Hell. Just like when the German Shepherd was trying to get me, there was nothing that I could do (at least I couldn’t think of anything!) to save myself, I needed to be rescued. Jesus is my heroic prince! Even before I loved Him, He loved me. He gave His life for me. He provided everything that I would ever need when He went to the cross on my behalf. I’m so thankful.
Some people say that Wes and I rescued Rivaldo and, in a way I guess we did. However, that’s probably not how we’ll explain it to Rivaldo when he is old enough to ask about being adopted. What we ARE making it our life’s mission to make sure that he understands is that he was rescued by Jesus. He is loved and valued, he can have peace and health and that he can do everything that God calls him to do because of this great rescue.