The post I am sharing today is the third chapter of my ebook entitled From Captive to Conqueror. This series of reflections on 2 Samuel 22 grew out of my own personal experience of being rescued from my own "stormy seas". In the months that followed, 2 Samuel 22 became very precious to me as I saw over and over again a beautiful picture of how God had rescued me, restored me, and was equipping me to be a conqueror.
I will share some of these chapters, although not the entire book, in my next several posts. If you would like to purchase the ebook for $0.99 for Kindle or Kindle Readers, click here.
Keep in mind that this is just one chapter. Things look pretty desperate in this post. Come back for the next one. I promise, things will start looking up in the next few chapters. If you would like to know the background of my own story that is behind this book, click here for an earlier post called God Captures My Attention.
I hope these gleanings from 2 Samuel 22 will encourage and bless you.
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"The waves of
death swirled about me;
the torrents of
destruction overwhelmed me.
The cords of the
grave coiled around me;
the snares of death
confronted me.
(2 Samuel 22:5,6)
These two verses were the first ones to
catch my eye . . . no, to capture my heart.
They clearly described the situation I had lived with for so long. When I read them now, I think of something
that happened to me back in 1990 when I spent a year in Papua New Guinea as a
teacher.
Over the Easter holidays, I visited a
remote village where the parents of one of my students worked. In transit to that village, I spent a day or
two in the coastal town of Wewak where I joined some of my friends on a trip to
the beach. The waves were breaking near
the shore, but out beyond the breaking waves, the water was calm. I took a boogie board out to the calmer
water. Eventually, I passed the boogie
board on to another swimmer. After a
while, I looked around and noticed I was the only person still in the
water. Realizing that it was time to go
home, I began to head in. I used to
think that although I am by no means a strong swimmer, I could still swim
enough to save my life, if that were ever necessary. The events of the next few minutes forever
cured me of that misplaced confidence.
After trying to swim for a while, I stopped
to rest. Treading water as I looked
toward the beach, I noted with dismay that I had made no progress. I tried again and again, swimming with all my
might. From time to time, I tried to put
my feet down to walk in, but there was such a strong current down below that I
could feel myself getting dragged back out. In fact, not only was I no nearer
to the beach, but I had actually drifted parallel to the beach farther down
from where my friends waited. A growing
sense of dread crept over me as I realized my perilous situation.
A large wave picked me up and spun me head
over heels in the water. I had no idea
which way was up. As I am not in the
habit of opening my eyes in saltwater, I swam blindly trying to reach the
surface, but made no progress. Just when
I was about to lose hope, it was almost as if a voice said to me, “Open your
eyes.” Just that. I opened them and realized that I was
swimming with all my might . . . toward the bottom. Reversing direction, I swam to the surface,
took a great gulp of precious air, and looked over my shoulder . . . just in
time to see another wave coming after me.
I was so exhausted that I was sure the next wave would do me in.
The second wave spun me around again, but
this time, I remembered to open my eyes to see which way was up. It pushed me far enough in that I could put
my feet on the bottom without being dragged back out. Shakily and thankfully, I waded back to the
shore. I gained a great deal of respect
for the power of the ocean that day. I
also learned a valuable lesson about how helpless I could be in the face of
such power.
With this as a background, perhaps you can
imagine why 2 Samuel 22:5, 6 struck me with such power.
"The waves of
death swirled about me;
the torrents of
destruction overwhelmed me.
The cords of the
grave coiled around me;
the snares of death
confronted me.”
When I read these verses, I picture a
person alone out on the ocean in a sailboat.
A storm rages all around him and heavy waves pound the little vessel.
Had the rigging been set correctly, perhaps the boat could have weathered the
storm. Unfortunately, the sailor had not
set the rigging properly. The sailboat quickly becomes unmanageable, capsizing
and tossing the sailor out into the merciless sea. The ropes and cables that had held up the
sails become “cords of the grave” and “snares of death” as they coil around
him. Battered by the waves and entangled
in the rigging of his vessel, the sailor struggles to stay afloat, but it is
obvious he is losing the battle. He can’t
hang on much longer.
Could I relate? Oh yes. I could no longer pass these verses off with
a casual, “David sure did have problems, didn’t he?” No, the struggle I was going through at that
time fit the description. Waves of
death. Torrents of destruction. Cords of the grave. Snares of death. I read these words and all I could say
was, “That was me. He’s talking about
me.”
Perhaps David was talking about you,
too. Perhaps you are in the middle of
some kind of a struggle right now that feels much like this. If you are, I want to assure you that there
is hope, even in the middle of the most hopeless situation.
Questions
for Reflection
Does
this passage remind you of a season in your life? If so, describe it in your journal.
What advice would you
give to someone in this situation? Are
there any scriptures that come to your mind?
Does this passage
describe where you are right now? If so,
in your journal, describe as honestly as you can whatever you are currently
struggling with. What is the seemingly hopeless situation you need to be
rescued from?