007: A Rescue

February 22, 2010
Psalm 70

I spent my whole afternoon today being rescued. I hate having car problems – there is nothing that makes me feel more helpless and childish than when my car breaks down. I drive a junky Geo Metro for economical reasons, but I’m realizing that not having a dependable car can be downright annoying.

While I was borrowing yet another car today to meet my obligations and responsibilities, I was thinking about how I hate to be rescued (yes, I know, it’s my pride. I prefer to be able to take care of myself), but how much God enjoys doing it for us.

Again and again in the Bible God steps forward and rescues His people at the last minute to bring glory to His name. Usually it looks like the last minute has already expired. When the Israelites were standing on the shores of the Red Sea with the Egyptian army behind them, that was probably past the time when they thought, “Maybe God will come through for us.” When the Israelite army heard Goliath come out and taunt them day after day, I’m sure they were thinking, “Man, we’re in deep trouble now.”

But God doesn’t just leave them. He never leaves them – even when it seems like He has during the 70 years of exile and the hundreds of years of silence between the Old and New Testament. God is a God of endurance, patience, mercy, grace, forgiveness, and relentless, passionate love.

I hate being rescued, but I do want my life to bring glory to God. I hate being rescued because my pride must acknowledge that I am not capable of doing all that I’d like to think I can do. I hate being rescued because it means I must be dependant on other people and be vulnerable to being rejected by them. When I called up my friend Chris today to come help me get my dead car battery into a shop where I could charge it and get it tested, he could have easily said no. And because he’s my friend, I know that his “no” wouldn’t have actually been a rejection, but it still runs the risk of hitting a bit of a bruised spot: if someone rejects helping me, I can’t help but wonder, “Maybe what I don’t want to believe about myself really is true. Maybe I really am not valuable enough to be helped.”

What foolishness! What lies can permeate into my mind and trickle down to my heart. Of course I’m valuable enough to be rescued! Not because I deserve it, but because God says I am. God set my value and price when He Himself came to die for me.

And once again, God performed a dramatic rescue. I was dead in my sins. Jesus was dead in the tomb. All looked like it was the end of hope. But it wasn’t. God performed His greatest rescue feat of all time.

Why can I not see these minor rescues from car problems as a blessed reminder of how I have been rescued and redeemed by my God? Why does my pride have to get in the way and I have to be frustrated by the opportunity to embrace my own humility?