We Worship a Scarred God

In all their distress He too was distressed, and the angel of His presence saved them.
In His love and mercy He redeemed them; He lifted them up and carried them all the days of old. Isaiah 63:9 (NIV)

Lord, I do not even know how you have protected me. I am oblivious. Blind. Naïve. You gave us such limited sight and such hemmed in awareness.

We go through our days putting our hands on what is within arms-reach – completely unaware of the angel standing guard over us, sword drawn, eyes watchful.

I watched yesterday as a father ran across an intersection in Virginia Highlands, his son on his right, his daughter on his left. He held their hands, watching cars from the left, from the right, and lifting their arms to help them make the step up onto the curb and to safety.

But the little girl stumbled, one knee going down to the pavement on that last big step. Her dad scooped her up into his arms, and as we continued driving my last glimpse of her was her pretty little face lifted high in tears and pain.

Go ahead, little one and cry it out. It is a skinned knee, true. A scrape. A little blood. Let those tears flow.

You are too young to know that your father had you all along the way. He was between you and thousands of pounds of fast moving cars and distracted drivers. He was looking out for the bigger damage – the one you wouldn’t recover from. The skinned knee, though painful, will heal.

Let me be reminded that God, my loving Father, sent His Only Son to get me safely across the street. We crossed that valley of death together – until safely on the other side. I may have gotten a skinned knee along the way – but he is the one who bears the scars.

Question: Do you ever think about God’s protection of you? Do you know He promised angels to keep watch over you? Do you know He sent his own son to save you from death?

This writing was inspired by Glyn Evans Daily with the King, devotion for May 11th. He writes,

“We worship a scarred God. But may I never forget, Lord, that the scars were inflicted because you loved me enough to step in between, to become my buffer, to take upon yourself that which was rightly mine. Your love overwhelms me, God!”

Small StoriesGeorgia TannerJuly 25, 2018Comment