How to Let the Father Rescue You

My earliest memory is of the beach.

I am about two or three, and my pant legs have been rolled up so they won’t get wet. My mom and dad, still married, both stand watch as a small wave crashes, and the bubbles creep up to my feet. I giggle for a minute as the foam hides my tiny toes. Then something terrifying happens. As the waves retreat back out into the Pacific, they start taking the sand with them. I’m standing still. Firm. Refusing to move as the world begins to erode around me.

Then he comes. My dad. He sees my fear, the tears beginning to form, and he lifts me up just before I fall. Like a million times before and since, Dad saved the day.

Over the past few months, this memory has played repeatedly in my head. Not because it’s my favorite memory, or one of the only two memories I have of my parents as a married couple. It’s been on repeat as a reminder of how God has saved me from the waves that would have washed me away.

You see, there was a time, not too many years ago, when the sand was washing away and I was standing firm. I was refusing to move, to take action, or to take responsibility; and just before the whole world collapsed, my heavenly Father picked me up out of the waves and put me back on solid ground.

Before I met Jesus, I was a twenty-five-year-old girl with a lot of regrets. Regretting marrying and having children at a young age. Regretting not having dated more. Regretting forsaking a few years of partying so I could stay home and nurse babies. Regretting not getting a college degree and traveling the world. Regretting the fact that I’d packed up and moved away from my family and friends to follow my military husband.

Instead of being thankful for all I had, I wallowed in what I’d missed. I started to wish away all the blessings, and started to wonder if the grass was greener somewhere else. My friends all seemed to have it so good, partying on weekends and going wherever they wanted whenever they wanted. I was the wife stuck at home with two kids and a nice husband.  My life wasn’t exciting.

Just before everything fell apart, before attorneys were called, U-Hauls were rented, and custody agreements were arranged, Jesus met our family right where we were. Right before the last grains of sand went out from under my feet.

My husband and I weren’t raised in families that attended church regularly, but we’d both been to Sunday school occasionally as children, where seeds were planted. We believed in a powerful God, and we knew if we had any shot at making our marriage work, we needed Him. So we decided to go to church the following Sunday. And we kept going. Week after week, praying for God to move.

I’d like to tell you that our family changed right away, but it didn’t. It was a process. A process which required hard conversations, a lot of forgiveness, and more than one “I’m sorry.” It required us to give our marriage to God and let Him fix it before the water dragged all the sand away.

It’s been almost eight years since we stepped through the doors of the small chapel on Fort Rucker in Alabama. Our family has seen three more states, another baby, four baptisms, two deployments, and countless examples of how God provides.

Sometimes I look back at the girl I was eight years ago. I had skin that glowed, smooth thighs, and a six pack. I wore smaller jeans. Men stared at me.  But I was so broken. I was standing in the water, refusing to move, while the sand was being carried right out from under me.

Life is funny that way. One minute, we’re on solid, packed sand, splashing around in the waves, and then the water begins to steal our footing. Loss, sickness, pain, financial trouble—any number of things can begin to instill fear in our hearts. Sometimes, just as we get our feet back under us, another wave washes up and the cycle starts all over again.

If you’re standing on the beach today and the waves are carrying away the sand, if it feels like your world is collapsing, you are not alone! [Tweet “Your heavenly Father who loves you is standing watch.”] He will always be near, even if it feels like He is far away. You might be going through something awful, but you aren’t going through it by yourself. You are loved, and you are precious to Him. Just reach up, and let the Father carry you.

Becky Yurisich is a full-time Army wife and mom, and an occasional teacher of first graders. She is an unapologetic follower of Jesus and the University of North Carolina Tar Heels. Becky holds a bachelor’s degree in Elementary Education from UNC, and dreams of writing a book. She blogs at beckyyurisich.com.