Bursting Forth.

Who doesn’t love a good mystery?

For as long as I can recall, I have been captivated and besotted by mysteries. Fictitious or otherwise, I have always hankered for that one instant… that very moment that a mystery is solved. I spent afternoons sitting beside my grandfather, engrossed in mystery themed shows, when I was supposed to be napping. Instead of sawing logs, I would think through what I was watching, dreaming up how I, the dashing blonde in her Keds, would come to the rescue, saving the day and bringing justice, with a bow in her hair and lunchbox in hand.

For a little miss who loves mysteries, the news was her favorite network, while the newspaper was in her teeny-tiny hands all morning during breakfast at her grandparent’s wooden table. I truly cannot remember a single day in my childhood (or adulthood, for that matter) that I didn’t pick up a copy of the news for my little blue eyes to peel over.

As I open up the news each day, all of the years later, I find myself frequently having moments of unquenchable, grueling heartache over it. Each morning, my eyes scan over stories of loss, tragedy and heartache, and I find my heart begins to weigh a little heavier in my chest  with every syllable my mind soaks up.

Lately, I couldn’t help but notice an abduction taking the nation by storm. The tragedy was laced with disastrous moments, demise and calamity, and my heart split open for the father feeling the brunt of the agony. His spouse and son had lost their lives, while his daughter was marked vanished. He plead, day in and day out, for her captor to release her. He wailed, “PLEASE LET HER GO! Just let her GO.”

With every sentence he uttered, my vision blurred, as tears welled up and spilled out of my eyes.. This daddy wanted his girl... and he wanted her NOW.

After days of unyielding search operations, her captor was found and defeated, and her father got to wrap his arms around his girl, welcoming her back home. She was found. She was safe. The battle was over. The evil one was overpowered, overcome and conquered.

WHAT a story of redemption. A girl became TRAPPED in the snares of fear, hoping that she would be spared by the one who had no problem taking life. I imagine her prayers in the nightfall, asking her Father to deliver her. Asking for His favor. Asking for His hand.  Asking for rescue. And.. He did just that.

In the hopeless shadows, He burst forth, and He got His girl.

Oh, the common ground we share with that precious life. We have been swept away by darkness, wooed away by an evil one. We were trapped, ensnared by a force we couldn’t defeat with our own muscle strength. Without a rescue operation being orchestrated on our behalf, we would be helpless to escape. The enemy would have us. He would win. He would claim the victory.

But.. there He is. Our Father. Weeping. Pleading. BEGGING for His girl to come home. Waiting patiently for her captor to release her. For her to break free of her sin. He wants her back. He wants her home.

Moments pass, and He just cannot stand to wait any longer. So, the mission ensues.

The Father rushes in to the darkness… calling out for His daughter.
He finds her in her mess, and lifts her up onto His shoulders.

Before He takes her back home, He defeats her captor. He conquers evil. He wins. HE is the victor. The battle has been won. Our lives have been spared. He wins again.

Colossians 1:13: For He has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves.

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:38-39

PRAISE be to our Father who pursues us, liberates us and submerges us in a sweet embrace. He wins.

In the end, He gets His girl.