Rescue

Tuesday afternoon, I watched him lug the suitcase behind him down the stairs.  The zippers were stretched from items crammed within and a blue light saber was tucked into the outside pocket.

A knot formed in the pit of my stomach, and I knew the answer before I asked it.

“Where ya going, buddy?”

And little-boy lip quivered.  “Home.  Back to Colorado.  You can just tell J.’s parents to come pick me up at the airport.”

And life came to a screeching halt.

And mom and son sat on a couch a half-a-globe away from all things familiar,

and we both cried.

And so, Wednesday dawned Operation Rescue.

Schedules were cleared, and schooling was abandoned.  Our little man got a whole day just to be with Dad. He rode in the front seat, and they talked of Xbox games.  He got a new baseball bat, and they ate a lunch without rice {pizza and french fries to be exact}.

And the boy with the packed suitcase from the day before came home, lifted.  The sting of loss lessened by time with a strong father, a shiny piece of aluminum, and the permission to need attention.

And I was reminded again that Rescue doesn’t have to be applause-inducing or statistically-driven. Sometimes the Rescue isn’t as dramatic as lifting children out of impoverished situations or saving them from futures as prostitutes.   Sometimes the Rescue is quieter– more stealth than SWAT.

And it might be rescuing a marriage that’s gone too long without real conversation, or maybe it’s offering a lifeline to a rebelling teen with piercings.  Perhaps it’s offering community to the New Girl, or maybe it’s fighting harder against the Old Lie.  And it might take the shape of a date night with your wife.  Or a phone call to a stranger.  Or even a new baseball bat.

And I’d like to say that Thursday morning brought a wealth of hope and a new appreciation for Thai food, but it didn’t.  Matt and I were left with the realization that we’re each of us drowning, and perhaps Rescue just needs to go to the person sinking lowest at the moment.  But still, but still.  To fight for the hearts of those closest to us is a non-negotiable–a battle worth the swinging of sword.

Because each time we offer a bit of rescue, we’re reminding ourselves and them of the Ultimate Rescue.

When Jesus saw our lips quiver.  And called the Old Way to a screeching halt.  And gave up everything,

To Love.

And to Rescue,

for good.

Is there anyone around you that needs to taste Rescue today?  How can you fight for the hearts of those in your circle?

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This post linked with Ann over at Holy Experience.  Stop by and visit her if you have a moment.

Tagged as: culture shock, inspiration, jesus, missionary mom, motherhood & marriage, struggles of a life overseas