A Rescue Too

A Rescue Too

The small gray sedan idling just ahead of me in traffic sported a bumper sticker shaped like a dog’s paw. It read, “I’m a rescue. What are you?” My mind immediately went to Burley, my goofy mixed-breed pup whose mother was reportedly a black Labrador, but whose father was anyone’s guess. One of a litter of nine, Burley became mine at nine weeks. When people ask, “What is he?” I almost always answer, “He’s a rescue.”

“He’s a rescue” isn’t a breed name. It’s a story. He’s a rescue because he needed a home, and I had one to share. I took one look at his soulful, kohl-rimmed eyes and imagined what a good dog he might become. When someone asked, “Will you take him?” I said, “Yes, I will.” I didn’t need a dog. I already had one—a very good one—at the time. But Burley needed me.

I naturally thought of Burley when I saw the bumper sticker. But the decal didn’t ask about my dog. It asked about me. And the truth is that I’m a rescue too. I needed a place where my spirit could be at home, and God said, “Come and live with me. I have room.”

I did not earn my oh-so-fortunate adoption. I was chosen not because of any virtues of my own, but because of the love of the one who did the choosing. Had he not plucked me out of my “litter of lostness,” I would have certainly been homeless forever. But when I needed him most, he took me in. I’m thinking of getting that sticker for myself. It fits me like a glove. I’m a rescue. What are you?

By entering through faith into what God has always wanted to do for us—set us right with him, make us fit for him—we have it all together with God because of our Master Jesus. And that’s not all: We throw open our doors to God and discover at the same moment that he has already thrown open his door to us. We find ourselves standing where we always hoped we might stand—out in the wide open spaces of God’s grace and glory, standing tall and shouting our praise.

Romans 5:1-2, MSG