When Rescue Means Returning: A Quiet Lesson in Repentance

I'm in a season that feels stormy in every sense of the word. Not one big lightning bolt moment, but more like an ongoing fog—where I keep showing up to life, to prayer, to my responsibilities, but something in my spirit feels… off. Tired. Stretched. Like I am white-knuckling my way through things I once carried with joy.

And it was in the middle of this quiet storm that God started exposing some things. Not in a loud or punishing way, but gently, like a Father who wants to show His daughter where her feet are slipping. I started to see how much I was relying on my own strength. How tightly I was holding onto the outcome. How often I was asking God to fix things around me instead of within me.

And that’s when I came across something that changed everything:

I looked up the word rescue, and found that it means to turn back.

It stopped me in my tracks.

Because when I think of rescue, I imagine God stepping in, pulling me out of the hard thing. But what if rescue is also about returning? What if it’s about repentance in the truest sense...turning again to Christ?

That thought stayed with me. And I started seeing repentance less as a one-time event and more like a daily invitation. A rhythm. A returning.

Every day, in small ways, I’m learning to turn.

To turn away from fear and back to faith.

To turn from control and toward surrender.

To turn from performing and toward presence.

And the most beautiful part?

I believe He’s always turning back to me, too. Watching. Waiting. Wondering if I’m still walking with Him. And even when I’ve drifted...because I do...He doesn’t leave. He simply turns toward me again, arms open.

That’s what repentance has come to mean in my daily life. Not perfection. Not polished prayers. But a pattern of returning. Again and again.