My Hiding Place: Christ Is for Me

By Rev. George F. Borghardt

You are my hiding place and my shield; I hope in Your word.

What happens when you look around your life and you feel like the chewing gum that’s on the bottom of God’s shoe and He’s tracking you around? It’s like I’m the insect and God has put the windshield in front of me! Splat! I’m done! You know this feeling, don’t you?

Too many people tug on me and there’s not enough of me to go around! A little here, a little there—they each take a part of me that gets left behind. A little bit of me only goes so far and then I look down and I feel like there is nothing left.I’m not enough. I’m stretched too thinly—about to break.

My feelings show on my face. How could they not? People see me and they say, “You don’t look like yourself. Is it me? Am I bothering you? Should I leave you alone? Why aren’t you any fun anymore? Where is that twinkle in your eyes? Do you have too much on your plate?”

It’s not their fault anyway. They love me. I try not to let their concern add to my stress. So I press it down. I stretch myself out further. I can’t let anyone down; they’re depending on me. Now, not only do I have to get myself together for me, I need to do it for those around me.

But who am I fooling? I can’t do it all and I know better than to try. I probably couldn’t tell you what’s wrong anyway. I can’t figure it out myself! It’s just everything at once. It has sapped all my strength and stripped me of my cape. And without my Superman symbol on my chest, I’m just done. I’m going to crash and burn and everyone is going to see me go out in a blaze of glory or collapse in a miserable heap. I just know it!

And then on cue, all my lifelong enemies surround me. I see them smiling because they finally have me where they want me. They’ve always whispered behind my back, “He can’t do it—he’s too young and stupid. He’s too old. He’s just not enough.” Now, they are going to watch my colossal-epic fail. Just watch! Even my best friends will abandon me when it all hits the fan! No one will understand. All they will see is what kind of failure I am.

I’m alone. I’m by myself. They all raise their weapons armed with the very bullets that I have given them by my sins and failures. My arrogance, my pride, my self-righteousness, my stupidity, my vanity, my secrets, are all loaded up and about to be fired at me. Stripped of all my defenses, all that is left for me to close my eyes and spread my arms and let it hit me.

They fire but I feel nothing. Another wave of artillery is launched at me. Nothing again! Did they miss? Maybe I got it hit and this is what death is like. Shouldn’t the whole thing have hurt more?

I open one eye to see what’s up and there is only Jesus. It all hit Him first! Again, again, and again. It all hits Him—not me. They could pick up the kitchen sink (I have no doubt that some day they will!) and fling it at me and it will hit Him first. He’s a giant shield that blocks everything!

Jesus. When there is nothing else, no other protection, no cape, no armor, no friends, no other sanctuary, there is only Him. Only Jesus saves me. Christ before me. Christ before you, too. He was despised. They surrounded Him. His friends abandoned Him. They betrayed Him. He was mocked as He was beaten. They finished Him off. Then He who knew no sin was done in by the sin of the world, having becoming sin in our place. Him for me and Him in my place!

When stripped of my “S,” I have only Christ. When the twinkle in my eyes is gone and I am tracked around like gum on the bottom of a shoe, there is only Jesus. When there is no illumination in my world and I suffer in my own personal darkness, He alone is My Light. For in my weakness, in my sickness, in my failure, in my sin, and especially in my death, Christ’s strength is made perfect (2 Corinthians12:9).

Jesus is right there: in front of me. Right there: protecting me. Right there: shielding me—even from me, for all my failures have been placed on Christ. All my weaknesses, all my sicknesses, even my death, He has taken upon Himself and has redeemed me. He has bought it all back and has declared it holy.

Pure. Baptismal. Forgiven. That’s me! Bodied and Blooded. That’s me, too. Absolved by the Word. Amen. That was me before my enemies and I imploded, I just didn’t believe it. That’s me now, too, even when everything looks dark.

Christ is for me even when I’m not for me. Christ is for me when I’m not for Him. Christ is for me when everyone is for me. Christ is for me when no one else is for me. And if they do me in because I stepped around Him, He’ll save me then, too. He always does. Always—not because of me, but because He truly is so unbelievably faithful.

This brings a smile to my face and the start of a twinkle in my eyes.It’s coming back. And I have just enough of a smirk on my face now to peek through Jesus’ nailed-scarred hands and wave at Satan and my enemies safely from behind Jesus, my hiding place.

“Fire away. You may do me in, you may ultimately get what you want with those bullets that I gave you, but He’ll protect me. He’ll save me. He’ll take even your doing me in, or my doing me in, and use it to save me.”

You can’t kill me—even if you actually do. I’ve already died with Christ in my Baptism. God will take whatever you do to me and make it good. And that makes all of this—every Word of Gospel—more real to me than it ever has been!

Christ will save me.He always does. He already has. He’s that much for me. He is my hiding place. He is my shield. He is your hiding place and shield, too!

Rev. George F. Borghardt is the pastor of Immanuel Lutheran Church in Bossier City, Louisiana. He also serves as the president of Higher Things.