I confess…I love Animal Planet. Next to Food Network, it might be the most God-ordained network on television.
Recently, I discovered a new show called “I’m Alive!” The show’s premise is stories about people who have survived, against all odds, the most harrowing of life-altering experiences. People who are lost in the wilderness for days on end, people who have had run-ins with dangerous animals—I’m still waiting for the profile of a new youth pastor’s first lock-in.
One hallmark of the series is personal stories of people as they reach what they believe will be their final hours—their desperation for rescue, their review of life as it has been, and their hope for a second chance.
Tonight, as I watched a story about an extreme athlete critically injured in a freezing canyon trying to crawl the two miles back to her vehicle, sporting a shattered pelvis and massive internal bleeding, I could only think about…
Jesus?? Yes, Jesus. Hardly a day passes where I don’t think about the rescue mission launched on my behalf. I was so, so lost…wandering aimlessly, helplessly, hopelessly. I knew I was in trouble. My life was flashing before my eyes—desperation and panic welling in my chest. I knew I might not survive the night. I thought about my family, about the things I had done that I regretted, about the things I might not ever do. I rehearsed my good-byes, knowing I probably would never see the new life I so desperately wanted.
Then, just as I had given up all hope for rescue—doomed to life unfulfilled, purposeless, and void of true love—I see my rescuer. He rushed to my aid, giving me every assurance that I would survive. He rendered critical, life-giving triage and began to move me to life anew. He banished my fears of not surviving the situation, surrounded me with a team of people who knew how to give me amazing care, and set me on the road to recovery.
No longer a slave to my hopeless, helpless situation—against all the odds and in opposition to what I thought was inevitable—I’m alive!!
Thank you, Jesus.