And have mercy on those who waver; save others by snatching them out of the fire… (Jude 1:22, 23)
“Alpha Team to base.”
Special Forces Staff Sergeant, Roy Benavidez, heard panic through his radio in Vietnam.
“Heavy fire from every side. All twelve hit—four fatalities. Require immediate extraction. Repeat, immediate extraction.”
Benavidez jumped into a helicopter and barked coordinates to the pilot. He dropped into the jungle a short distance from the wounded team, fought his way in, rallied the dazed survivors, then ferried them to a clearing for pick up. As he finished loading, enemy fire took out the pilot and the hovering chopper crashed. With his last bit of strength, Benavidez crawled out of the wreckage and called for another extraction that finally succeeded.
Benavidez sustained over forty wounds, but he rescued his men from a horrible fate. After the war, President Ronald Regan placed the highest award, the Medal of Honor, around Roy’s neck.
I’m wounded by life. Following years of spiritual carnage, it’s a full-time job to stitch my heart into some semblance of Christlikeness. As bad as my injuries feel, they’re nothing compared to the fate of the lost. Gnashing teeth, writhing in fire, and eternal separation from the Source of life is an unacceptable loss.
Instead of withdrawing into self-care, I must provide extraction. People are dazed from life’s shrapnel. They’ve not said no to Jesus, but neither have they said yes. They need someone to rally their confidence in grace and lead them out.
Souls all around me don’t grasp the one truth I hold most dear. Oh, they may believe in God, but no one has exhibited grace to them. Rules, condemnation, and religion don’t impart the reality of grace. Not even words alone suffice. It must be demonstrated in my lifestyle. Only as I lower into their jungle and model a radically changed life, does the efficacy of grace become believable. Only then will they follow me to the extraction point.
Prayer: Father, use me to rescue the lost.