Yesterday I found myself in the middle of a little adventure, scratch that, “adventure” I wasn’t planning nor prepared for. The word adventure makes it sound like there was some fun to be had, but I assure you this situation was not fun!
My son had come home from school and asked to spend some time jumping on his trampoline. It was a warm winter day so I obliged. I could hear the steady rhythm of the springs bouncing as I prepped dinner and then suddenly all was quiet. Okay, quiet for a house with a toddler and a five-year old in it, anyway. I went to the window to make sure he was ok and couldn’t find him. I yelled for him; no answer. I walked around to the front yard; no sign of him. I went back to the trampoline and yelled again. This time I heard a faint reply from the hillside of woods behind our house. “I’m up here!”, he said.
I quickly reminded him he’s not allowed in the woods by himself and that the dog doesn’t count as a responsible guide. “Ok I’m coming”, he said with just a bit of an attitude that if I could see his face, likely had some eye rolling attached to it. I turned to head back in the house with his little sister when I heard a panicked voice say, “I can’t get out!!”
“Just come down the way you went up”, I told him sternly. “I can’t!”, he replied in weaker trembly voice as the tears started to flow. “I’m stuck!” And the tears turned to sobs.
“I’m coming up!” I shouted as I made sure his sister would be safe inside for a moment.
I ran up the hill, praying not to slip in my Nikes with no tread left on the bottom, expecting to show him the obvious exit and make a clear getaway to the safety of the house.
However, as I crested the hill I realized why he was crying. He was indeed stuck! In the middle of a patch of thorn bushes. Somehow, he had walked in but was now inevitably surrounded by thorns.
I looked at his pitiful little face through the tangled spiked branches and had no choice. I suited up in my invisible Supermom cape and dove into the thorns! And in true MOM fashion, shouted, “don’t you ever come up here again!!!” as the thorns dug into my legs and tore holes in my shirt.
And then, as I broke branches and pushed aside the thorns, often letting them pierce my skin and cut into my flesh so I could make haste, I was overwhelmed by the face of Jesus.
This small act of sacrifice I was making for my son in order to save him, vanished in comparison to the sacrifice Our Heavenly Father, in flesh, made for us. He not only walked a forsaken path, He wore a crown of thorns for our sake.
As I snatched my son and began to clear a path of escape, I thought about all the messes of life I’ve found myself in and how many times God was there to guide me out. Whether it was a series of poor decisions or the brunt of life’s circumstances, I’ve been in the thorn bushes. Often times, I’ve wondered how I even got there. Other times, I knew exactly what led me to that place but tired and worn when it came to finding a way out, I, like my son on that hillside, trembled in fear and sobbed, “I can’t.” Even then. Even then, my friends, He was there.
Oh, there have been many times I doubted; Many times I questioned and so many times I couldn’t see the path through the thorns. But do you know what happened in those times? I learned. I grew and well, I hope like my son, I learned to avoid that part of the woods!
The truth is though, the thorns aren’t always avoidable and even more so there is often purpose in the thorns.
Ouch!
We don’t like to think of purpose that comes through pain. But all to often, that’s exactly what God uses to bring his plan to fruition in our lives. In pain there is purpose and through purpose is the promise.
I sit here today with the scratches and scars of yesterday’s “adventure” but I also wear deeper invisible scars. We all do. It’s what makes us who we are. It’s what gives us a story. It’s what allowed faith to triumph over fear.
Afterall, if I had been afraid to Supermom through the thorns, I’d still be unscathed today. But my son would still be stranded in the woods.
My friends, God doesn’t leave us stranded in the woods. He never has. He never will. It goes against who He is as a good good Father. He rescues us, sometimes without pain and other times through thorns, tears and scars.
If you’re in the thick of the thorn bushes today, cry out to Him! Cry, “I’m stuck!” Cry, “I can’t!”
Because He can! And He will.
2 Corinthians 12: 6-8, Matthew 27:29, Psalm 18:19, Deuteronomy 31:6