This past week has been filled with frightening events. A tragic incident critically injured a long-time family friend, the fatal Boston explosions that killed three and wounded hundreds, and then last night’s explosion at a fertilizer plant in West, Texas (near my hometown) where the death toll is still climbing and the injuries will most likely top 200 as day breaks.
Each of these traumatic events have drastically and devastatingly changed the course of many families. Sadly, I am reminded of the fading nature of the world. We are but grass. Recognizing this reality has caused me to once again remember the source of my faith and recommit to trusting solely in the Lord’s sovereignty.
This morning I read over this passage in the devotional book Spurgeon’s Morning By Morning, by Alistair Begg:
“Rahab depended for her preservation upon the promise of the spies, whom she regarded as the representatives of the God of Israel. Her faith was simple and firm, but it was very obedient. To tie the scarlet cord in the window was a very trivial act in itself, but she dared not run the risk of omitting it.
Come, my soul, is there not here a lesson for you?….
This act of Rahab provides an even more solemn lesson. Have I implicitly trusted in the precious blood of Jesus? Have I tied the scarlet cord, with an intricate knot in my window, so that my trust can never be removed? Or can I look out toward the Dead Sea of my sins or the Jerusalem of my hopes without seeing the blood and seeing all things in connection with its blessed power? The passer-by can see a cord of such a conspicuous color if it hangs from the window: It will be good for me if my life makes the efficacy of the atonement conspicuous to all onlookers.
What is there to be ashamed of? Let men or devils gaze if they want, the blood is my boast and my song. My soul, there is One who will see that scarlet cord, even when because your faith is weak you cannot see it yourself; Jehovah, the Avenger, will see it and pass over you. Jericho’s walls fell flat: Rahab’s house was on the wall, and yet it stood undisturbed.
My nature is built into the wall of humanity, and yet when destruction smites the race, I will be secure. My soul, tie the scarlet cord in the window again, and rest in peace.”
My hope and peace do not come through gun control, counter-terrorism units, or tighter security measures. My cord of hope is Christ alone.
Lindsey Carlson lives in Houston with her worship-pastor husband and their four active kids (all under age 10). Her home is filled with the sounds of childhood (galloping horses, swashbuckling heroes, and the occasional sibling brawl), the near-constant presence of music in some form, and volumes of great literature, old and new. You can catch her regular reflections on faith and worship at Worship Rejoices.