LoveReign
a Love Affair with a SoveReign God
February 22nd, 2023
the Ragamuffin Story
I John 3:1-2, ‘Consider the kind of extravagant love the Father has lavished on us—He calls us children of God! It’s true; we are His beloved children. And in the same way the world didn’t recognize Him, the world does not recognize us either. My loved ones, we have been adopted into God’s family; and we are officially His children now. The full picture of our destiny is not yet clear, but we know this much: when Jesus appears, we will be like Him because we will see Him just as He is.’
Trafficked. The word fell off her tongue, sounding foreign. The more she repeated it, the stranger it sounded as it rolled out of her mouth. It was one of those concepts she had heard of as a small child, growing up in the perfect family, raised by hypocritical parents, daily kneeling at the altar of an angry god who took his pound of humility and flesh every time he could make her feel failed. Now, she wondered, was that God or was that the people and their almighty expectations?
She had taken to the streets after a fit of rage left her feeling hopeless and out of control. If she had it to do all over again, likely, she would. The day her mother made her feel small and insignificant, followed by the impeding invisibility her father’s words invoked in her, she never looked back. With things, necessary essentials, stuffed in a backpack, she crept out the door, never once considering where she might be going, not at all realizing she had nowhere to go, but that was that. She had been storing up courage for the sum total of all her years and felt giant by taking the first leap. There was no going back now, she sneered at herself. It felt like a rite of passage. She felt brave for the first weeks or so; the timing couldn’t have been more perfect with school just letting out for the summer so she had nowhere to be that her parents could find her. She made sport out of dodging in doorways, and learned quickly, the best places to bum a meal, offer a simple hand and then a hopeful handout, how to restrain her fears like captured convicts, all shackled up and put away.
Then someone else moved into ‘her territory’ and she realized what a commodity a door front could be. She’d thought of it as her address, her home, and these places where she dined, as her kitchen. The nerve! The first time she sold herself felt like she had stripped herself of all dignity she claimed as she left her parent’s home feeling invisible and forgotten. Every inch she gained stole chunks from her being, like being skinned alive, castrated inside out, scalded outside in. She wasn’t certain anymore what hurt worst: her heart, her soul, her spirit or her belly. The tears stopped flowing long before, she admitted, as she stood in a short line to meet who promised to be everyone’s savior. He looked good; he even smelled rich, and he had said all the right things to her the night before, promising her a new life, a new wardrobe, sustenance for her stomach and her mind, and to top it all, care and love. What else was there to hope for?! She had landed the jackpot! She hoped he picked her first!
~ We have all been there. That surprise announcement, an unexpected phone call, the unsuspecting person, a startling revelation, a tragic accident, the unforeseen, that sudden dread in the pit of our stomach, those words we never wanted to hear, the unknowing and the unraveling. What happens with the disappointments in the hands of an all-knowing, sovereign God? What is on the other side of the tarnished coin?
That was—she had no idea how long ago. She had been doped up and numbed ever since, and time no longer held any meaning. Her body felt used and abused and bruised from the inside out and she hurt more than she thought imaginable. She hated this individual now with a passion, even more than she had grown to despise her uppity parents and their perfect friends; she would even go home if she could, she thought, as an anguished sigh caught in her throat. With an unusual sense of clarity, suddenly, the word trafficked fell into her mind and then tripped out of her mouth, as she rolled it around her tongue. So, this is what it means to be trafficked. And at once a light gleamed in her head; she’d successfully escaped once, she could do it again.
There is a place for a person like me, she whispered words of affirmation to herself hour after hour. Her coaxing herself is what got her through. And when the opportunity first presented itself, she booked. She never looked back. She’d been there before also. Who cared if he caught her; she would be better off dead than living as she had been, so that took all other threats off the table. No matter what happened, it would be better than this, so a win-win. Who could ask for more?
There are places out there for people like her; it is true. They intercepted her, took her in, rescued her, healed her and loved on her, counseled her and repaired the wreckage, and then when just a glimmer of trust glistened, Jesus redeemed her. He saved her and made her whole. He uses her scars everyday to tell a story to others just like her, and the message is powerful coming from a sovereign God. There is no scarring too deep, no stench too strong, no shame too blemished, no one too broken and bruised, who is outside the reach of God’s love and grace. She has helped rescue dozens of girls already, and she is just getting started, she tells herself. This is just the beginning. Who—but God–knows what might be next?
Psalm 139:23-24, ‘Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me and lead me in the way everlasting.’ (NIV)
“When we feel like we are not good enough to be loved by God, we should remember that God’s love is greater than our doubts. We must silence the sounds of condemnation so we can hear the voice of God’s loving assurance and remember that He has selected us to be part of His family”. (The Voice, Bible Gateway)
