Yesterday my dad brought me a dumped puppy from his farm,
and as I do, I brought it home to clean it up and love on it a bit before rehoming
the sweet baby. As we processed through the evening, my heart grasped the most
beautiful picture of redemption and restoration. God's timing is indescribably
perfect.
From what I can gather, Mocha (the puppy) was abandoned
and left to die. She came to me starved, sick, shivering, and covered in fleas
and ticks. She didn't know me, but could probably only sense I was much bigger than her,
and resembled that of which previously discarded her. She had no reason to
trust me, and I certainly didn't blame her.
As I placed her in the tub, she didn't initially understand the difference between a
warm bath and a mid-November rain storm. Her previous experiences with water
probably weren't all that great. I knew and well understood the bath was for
her benefit. I had a plan to rid her of the dirt and dust and bugs, but she
only sensed she was about to be wet...again. I literally sat and talked out
loud to this pup about how we were washing away her old life and starting down
a new path. She wasn't trash anymore; she was receiving a new name, a new
identity, and a new start. She was finally going to be clean and warm and wanted. Obviously, she's
a dog, so she didn't comprehend a single word I spoke to her, but her lack of
understanding didn't change the reality of her rescue.
After her bath, I started the seemingly insurmountable
task of debugging her. Some of the ticks were buried so deep that her skin was
tender, swollen, and infected. She whimpered and cried as I dug
the ticks out one by one. Again, she didn't understand my intentions. Yes, I
was inflicting some pain, but it was purposeful. My efforts weren't to cause
her more suffering, but instead to very deliberately take what was hurting,
remove the root cause, and in turn, make her healthy again. It was redemption on a grand
scale, but it didn't come without a price. While she only saw the pain, I saw the payoff.
Finally, I took her through this whole process only
to leave her in the bathroom and turn out the light (she's most likely contagious, and I couldn't risk making the other babies sick). Instinctually, she
probably felt alone and vulnerable...again. What she didn't understand was that
I was just on the other side of that door. She was in my house now, and she was
safe. She could let her guard down. She could rest. She may not have sensed it,
but I was there all the while, listening for her cries. Through her literal,
bathroom light out and door shut darkness, she wasn't alone.
I laid in bed last night overwhelmed at the goodness of God. He knows, and He sees. Wow.
Our lives may often times resemble Mocha's. Maybe we're in need of an obvious rescue from a catastrophic life...or maybe not. Maybe we're just desperate for a less apparent, but equally as profound rescue from our own hearts, minds, or the mundane life. You see, there's this ridiculous misconception that if you're not on drugs, in jail, working the streets, or living under a bridge, that redemption and restoration aren't necessary. I disagree.
Jesus cares about every part of us- even our hearts- our real hearts. Good, bad, pretty, ugly, or indifferent, He's "all in," if you will. We weren't just redeemed once at the cross, though that alone would be sufficient. I truly believe with every ounce and fiber of my being that God is in the business of our continual redemption. Be encouraged by that. Whatever part it is in you that He's calling out, trust Him. He's just on the other side of that door, and I promise you, His intentions are always good.
The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the afflicted; He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and freedom to prisoners; to proclaim the favorable year of the Lord and the day of vengeance of our God; To comfort all who mourn, to grant those who mourn in Zion, giving them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a spirit of fainting (Isaiah 61:1-3).
I laid in bed last night overwhelmed at the goodness of God. He knows, and He sees. Wow.
Our lives may often times resemble Mocha's. Maybe we're in need of an obvious rescue from a catastrophic life...or maybe not. Maybe we're just desperate for a less apparent, but equally as profound rescue from our own hearts, minds, or the mundane life. You see, there's this ridiculous misconception that if you're not on drugs, in jail, working the streets, or living under a bridge, that redemption and restoration aren't necessary. I disagree.
Jesus cares about every part of us- even our hearts- our real hearts. Good, bad, pretty, ugly, or indifferent, He's "all in," if you will. We weren't just redeemed once at the cross, though that alone would be sufficient. I truly believe with every ounce and fiber of my being that God is in the business of our continual redemption. Be encouraged by that. Whatever part it is in you that He's calling out, trust Him. He's just on the other side of that door, and I promise you, His intentions are always good.
The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the afflicted; He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and freedom to prisoners; to proclaim the favorable year of the Lord and the day of vengeance of our God; To comfort all who mourn, to grant those who mourn in Zion, giving them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a spirit of fainting (Isaiah 61:1-3).
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