June 19, 2007

• Being rescued.

  I've been in a rut recently.  It's felt as though I'm at the bottom of a deep, deep pit that's at least 300 feet deep (the length of a football field) and I just can't get out of it.  I've tried clawing my way up and out but after getting enough dirt under my fingernails and sweat on my brow, I eventually give up, let go and fall back to the bottom.  I just can't get out.  No matter how hard I try, with as much logic and rationale as I can muster, with as much grit and energy as I try to thrust into it, and as much gusto as I gather, I haven't been able to get out. 

  Woe is me.  Here's my sob story.  I am a victim.  In light of the last entry I wrote, I know the reality is that it all can end right here in a pit of self-pity.  But something I realized yesterday is that even if I am a victim (for whatever reason), I don't have to choose to be a victim forever.  Admittingly, it's easier to throw an on-going pity party and proclaim the injustice dealt to me from a megaphone than it is to throw myself down in abject surrender and say, Jesus, please rescue me!  It's not a matter of can He or will He, it's a matter of will I ask Him and will I let Him rescue me?  Do I really want to be rescued anyway?  Jesus is my rescuer.  Jesus is my way out.  But will I let Him be?
  

  • 3:14 am
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