rescue

Colossians 1:13–14 in The Message says something breathtaking in its simplicity:

“God rescued us from dead-end alleys and dark dungeons. He set us up in the kingdom of the Son he loves so much, the Son who got us out of the pit we were in, got rid of the sins we were doomed to keep repeating.”

Those two verses carry a question that every believer eventually has to face: Where did God find you? Not where you pretend He found you. Not the polished version. The real place. The real condition. The real mess. The real you.

Because God doesn’t rescue imaginary people from imaginary problems. He rescues you from your pit — the one you know too well. He’s The God Who Steps Into Dark Places. Colossians says God found us in dead‑end alleys and dark dungeons. That’s not poetic exaggeration; that’s spiritual reality. Some of us were found in the alley of anger. Some in the dungeon of addiction. Some in the pit of religious performance, exhausted from trying to be “good enough.” Some in the shadows of shame, hiding from what we hoped no one would ever see.

Scripture keeps reminding us that God specializes in stepping into places we thought were too dark for Him: Psalm 40:2 — “He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire.” Isaiah 9:2 — “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light.” Luke 19:10 — “The Son of Man came to find and restore the lost.” God doesn’t wait for you to climb out. He climbs in.

You were rescued, not polished. One of the most dangerous lies Christians believe is that God saved us because we were “almost there.” Colossians destroys that idea. He didn’t rescue you from a detour. He rescued you from a dead end. He didn’t pull you out of a dimly lit hallway. He pulled you out of a dungeon. And He didn’t just clean you up — He transferred you. Paul says God “set us up in the kingdom of the Son He loves so much.” That’s relocation. That’s adoption. That’s identity. You didn’t just get forgiven — you got moved.

The Pit You Were In. The Message translation adds a phrase that hits hard: “The pit we were in… the sins we were doomed to keep repeating.” That’s the cycle every human knows: The habit you swore you’d break. The attitude you swore you’d fix. The sin you swore you’d never commit again. And yet — there it was. Again. But God didn’t just forgive the cycle. He broke it. Romans 6:6 says: “Our old way of life was nailed to the cross with Christ, a decisive end to that sin-miserable life.” Where did God find you? In the cycle. In the repetition. In the pit. And He didn’t shame you for it — He saved you from it.

Your Rescue Is Your Testimony. Your rescue story isn’t the part you hide. It’s the part God uses. Paul never hid where God found him, on a road, blinded by his own pride and violence. David never hid where God found him, in a pit of despair. The woman at the well never hid where God found her, in relational wreckage.

Your rescue is the evidence of His kingdom.
Your pit is the platform for His grace.
Your dark alley is the backdrop for His light.

So… Where Did God Find You? Not where you wish He found you. Not where you pretend He found you. Where He actually found you. Because that’s the place He wants to transform, redeem, and use. If you’re still in a dark alley today, He’s still rescuing. If you feel stuck in a dungeon, He’s still lifting. If you feel trapped in a pit, He’s still breaking cycles. The God who found you then… is the God who finds you now.

A man from Norfolk, Virginia, called a local radio station to share this on Sept 11th, 2003, two years after the tragedies of 9/11/2001. His name was Robert Matthews. These are his words:

A few weeks before Sept. 11th, my wife and I found out we were going to have our first child. She planned a trip out to California to visit her sister. On our way to the airport, we prayed that God would grant my wife a safe trip and be with her. Shortly after I said ‘amen,’ we both heard a loud pop and the car shook violently. We had blown out a tire. I replaced the tire as quickly as I could, but we still missed her flight. Both very upset, we drove home.

I received a call from my father, who had retired from the NYFD. He asked what my wife’s flight number was, but I explained that we missed the flight. My father informed me that her flight was the one that crashed into the southern tower. I was too shocked to speak. My father also had more news for me; he was going to help. “This is not something I can just sit by for; I have to do something.”

I was concerned for his safety, of course, but more because he had never given his life to Christ. After a brief debate, I knew his mind was made up. Before he got off the phone, he said, ‘Take good care of my grandchild.’ Those were the last words I ever heard my father say; he died while helping in the rescue effort.

My joy that my prayer for safety for my wife had been answered quickly became anger. I was angry at God, at my father, and at myself. I had gone for nearly two years blaming God for taking my father away. My son would never know his grandfather, my father had never accepted Christ, and I never got to say goodbye.

Then something happened. About two months ago, I was sitting at home with my wife and my son when there was a knock on the door. I looked at my wife, but I could tell she wasn’t expecting anyone. I opened the door to a couple with a small child.

The man looked at me and asked if my father’s name was Jake Matthews. I told him it was. He quickly grabbed my hand and said, ‘I never got the chance to meet your father, but it is an honor to meet his son.’

He explained to me that his wife had worked in the World Trade Center and had been caught inside after the attack. She was pregnant and had been caught under debris. He then explained that my father had been the one to find his wife and free her. My eyes welled up with tears as I thought of my father giving his life for people like this. He then said, ‘There is something else you need to know.’ His wife then told me that as my father worked to free her, she talked to him and led him to Christ. I began sobbing at the news.

Now I know that when I get to Heaven, my father will be standing beside Jesus to welcome me, and that this family will be able to thank him themselves. When their baby boy was born, they named him Jacob Matthew, in honor of the man who gave his life so that a mother and baby could live.

Brady, Mark A.

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Where Did God Find You?

A 911 Story