I read a story in "HomeLife" (a Christian family magazine) about a father in South Florida who was working in his backyard. His 5-year old son was out back as well, and decided to take a dip in the lake behind the house. As the boy waded out into the cool water, the father moved closer to the shore, to keep a watchful eye on him. Suddenly, he saw movement in the water to the right of his son. Calling for his son, and splashing into the water after him, an alligator charged the boy, arriving at him the same time as the father. The gator clamped down hard on the boy's legs, but the father grabbed him too, and a death struggle ensued for the boy. A neighbor saw the emergency, grabbed a shotgun, ran out and killed the animal.
As the local media caught wind of the story, they visited the boy and his family at the hospital. In the room, as they prepared to put microphones and cameras in his face, the boy actually asked the first question. "Want to see my scars?" he asked. Expecting to see his mangled legs, the boy instead pulled up his shirt sleeves and declared, "These are the scars where my daddy wouldn't let me go."
That story hit me in the heart, and choked me up. I can't explain why exactly. As I thought about the desperate, powerful love of the father, I was reminded of two things- First, the desperate lengths I would go to save my own wife and girls. I would give my life and limbs to rescue them. Second, I thought of the desperate love of our heavenly Father, who did just that- sending His Son into this world, to rescue us from the jaws of sin, death, and hell. Only, in this case, He has the scars of the struggle, in His hands and feet. And He did not, and never will, let us go.
"I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish. No one can ever snatch them out of My hand." John 10:28
Rob