by Laura on September 19, 2010

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, liftedThe 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 Asian 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?


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

  • Miles

    What a post. Here’s just a reminder that you are still in our (Lisa’s and my) prayers. We’ll be talking to the Big Guy Upstairs about Operation Rescue.

  • Val

    I love that you and Matt made a shift during what was a very real crisis for your little man. He was hurting and you guys ministered to him out of love. Now that my kids are all basically grown, about the only “rescuing” I am able to do is to pray for them (mmmm…yeah…petty much without ceasing). At this stage of their lives, it seems that praying is a much more effective “rescue” than anything I do in my own strength.

    Thanks for letting us be flies on your walls, on both the good and hard days. You are blessing many of us by the words of your mouths and the testimonies of your lives.

  • kendal

    My big son, Hank, is hurting so much I can scarcely contain my own tears. he misses his old church. his old group. his comfort. And I have no idea what to do. Obeying God. Leaning into the husband’s wisdom. Can. Be. So. Hard. Tonight’s rescue? Old youth group for the regular meeting since there’s nothing at the new church tonight. And after that? Probably more tears. And more prayers for wisdom.

    Your posts are always right on. Write on.

    • Laura

      Kendal, Here’s a prayer for Hank.

      Jesus, meet Hank. Like. Never. Before.
      Show up, God. In big, undeniably ways.

      And for his mom, Jesus, help her to trust YOU with him.


  • Tamara

    Oh. My CO momma heart is full of tears for you right now. Not pity but in the remembering of similar moments of mom-dom (feeling for Kendal, too) . . . compassion for you. So . . . . here it is:
    You are doing the right things! Stopping to pay attention. Turning to our Lord. Staying united with your husband as parents too, not just as missionaries. Remembering the Ultimate Rescue – wa-hoo!
    So, I’ll fight for YOUR heart in my prayers tonight and tomorrow. And I am now encouraged to look for ways to fight for the hearts of others.

    • Laura

      Val, Miles, Tamara,

      Thanks for the encouragement, the prayers, the entering in.

      You can be my “flies” anytime. haha.

      love from here (on a much better day),

  • Jan

    Thanks for taking the time to be with your little guy! Wish we could be there to sit and talk and cry together and maybe sip a cup of coffee or tea together. We’re praying for you. God is the ultimate answer but sometimes He seems so far away. Love ya!

    • Laura

      Zane and Jan,

      I’ll just say, “ditto.”

      Love, from here,

  • Mary Lee Moritz

    Beautiful, Laura! So happy your sweet little boy had a great day with his Daddy! You are all being lifted up in our prayers!

  • Amy Sullivan

    Your writing always speaks to me. I love that you aren’t perfect, and the raw your honesty you write with is refreshing.

    A taste of rescue? Yes, someone came to mind. Someone who is easy to overlook because although she is a good friend, she struggles to share about herself.

  • Teri Miller

    Oh Laura, this is so precious. I know & trust that you are ALL (yes, even your children) right where God intends for you to be. Doesn’t make it easy tho. So my heart feels sorrowful for you, even there in the palm of His hand. Where it is right & good & also painfully hard.

    Tho nothing compared to the strain y’all are under…I had to wake up & do a bit of ‘rescuing’ too, from the haze of crankiness I had my family under –

    Just thanks again for being such an inspiration.

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  • Karin from South Africa

    Wow. Profound…

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