Your Deliverer Is Standin’ By

For much of this month on the blog, we’re focusing on the seven different themes found in Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth’s Advent devotional Born a Child and Yet a King: The Gospel in the Carols. Today’s theme is deliverance. 

Joseph took his wife and her child
And they went to Africa
To escape the rage of a deadly King
There along the banks of the Nile
Jesus listened to the song
That the captive children used to sing
They were singin'

My deliverer is comin', 
my deliverer is standin' by

My deliverer is comin', 
my deliverer is standin' by

Songwriter Rich Mullins captured the theme of the Old Testament, the heart of Christmas, and the message of the gospel with just four words: “My Deliverer is comin’.” 

Though God would answer the cry of Israel as they begged Him for deliverance from their cruel enslavement to Pharaoh, Moses was not the ultimate answer to their prayers. The Baby who fled to Egypt with His mother and adoptive father to escape the tyrannical edict of another cruel king came as the perfect fulfillment of the Israelites’ plea. The true Deliverer had arrived. Just like Moses gave up his place as the son of Pharaoh’s daughter and forfeited the comforts and opulence of the palace in order to identify with God’s people of promise, so the true and better Deliverer gave up the glories and splendor of heaven to take on full humanity and give His life as a ransom for many. 

At Advent we remember: the Deliverer has come. 


The invasion of Ukraine, the attack on Israel, the prospect of another tumultuous presidential election cycle, the lingering effects of the global pandemic—all these and more may have your blood pressure on the rise. We truly have no shortage of reasons to fear today. Not surprisingly, anxiety has spiked in recent years. While the cause of this increase cannot be definitively proven, its reality cannot be denied. 

But if you wrestle with fear of circumstances, take heart. Your Deliverer is standing by.

Or maybe for you, fear manifests itself differently. Perhaps you’re paralyzed by the fear of other people. What Scripture terms the “fear of man” goes by other names as well: fear of failure, fear of rejection, love of approval, and peer pressure. Those of us who struggle with this type of fear wonder what others are thinking about us, analyze whether we said all the right things in a conversation, worry about how an upcoming decision might affect others’ opinion of us. Sometimes the fear of people can keep us from doing things we should, like sharing the gospel with a lost neighbor. Other times, we participate in things we know we shouldn’t in order to gain the approval of the “right” people. Scripture calls this type of fear a “trap” or “snare” (Prov. 29:25). 

If this is you, your Deliverer has come.

While fears come in many forms, perhaps the most common is the fear of death. We know that it will come for all of us eventually, but its certainty, finality, and mystery both intrigue and petrify many. As I write this, two celebrities and one member of my church have passed away in the last four days. Funerals are being prepared, tributes written, flowers arranged, caskets selected, and tears shed. Whether these three souls were ready or not (at least one was), death came. But because the Deliverer has come, we need not fear its presence. He defanged the dragon of death, disarmed the thief of souls, conquered the sting of the grave, and crushed the head of the snake. 

Because our Deliverer has come, we have been delivered from the slavery of fear. What once held us captive no longer exercises dominion over us. Paul writes to the Romans, “For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear. Instead, you received the Spirit of adoption, by whom we cry out, ‘Abba, Father!’” (Rom. 8:15)

Not only have we been delivered from the slavery of fear, but we have been adopted as heirs of the King.


The Deliverer could have rescued us from slavery, delivered us to freedom, and then left us to our own devices. For such service and mercy we would still be eternally indebted to Him. Instead, His deliverance doesn’t end with emancipation but welcomes us into His family as beloved sons and daughters. He doesn’t merely allow us to live in His home—He has bequeathed upon us the full rights of sonship. 

Jesus has granted us full access to the Father. As sons and daughters of the King, we don’t have to make an appointment to gain an audience with Him (as even many family members of the late Queen Elizabeth II did). Instead, we have been given the key to the “back door,” an open invitation to enter His throne room at will and boldly make our requests known to Him. Here we’re promised to “receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Heb. 4:16). 

We’ve been promised not only access, but also an inheritance. Unlike earthly inheritances of fortune, furniture, hot rods, and houses, this inheritance can’t burn to the ground, be lost in a recession, rust, or devalue in any way (1 Pet. 1:3–4). We have been promised the inheritance of the Deliverer Himself and eternal life worshiping, working, and resting in His presence (Rev. 21–22). In case you think this is too good to be true, He has already given you an “earnest payment” on this inheritance: the Holy Spirit dwelling inside of you guarantees your status as heir (Eph.1:14). 

Adoption also brings with it something that, for a season, seems not so pleasurable: suffering. If we continue reading in Romans 8, you’ll see what I mean: 

The Spirit himself testifies together with our spirit that we are God's children, and if children, also heirs—heirs of God and coheirs with Christ—if indeed we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him. (vv. 16–17)

This explains why all your troubles don’t go away the moment you’re delivered from sin. As long as we dwell in a sin-cursed world, we will groan along with creation (Rom. 8:19). But Paul doesn’t mean merely the common sufferings of the curse; he’s referring to the persecution that comes with identification with the Deliverer. Jesus Himself warned His disciples: “If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own. However, because you are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of it, the world hates you” (John 15:19).

Yes, suffering comes with the adoption certificate. But don’t despair. Good news is just around the corner.


Paul knew something about suffering for the cause of Christ. In his second letter to the Corinthians, he lists many of the hardships he had already suffered: beatings, stonings, shipwreck, imprisonment, robbery, hunger, thirst, sleepless nights—you name it, Paul probably experienced it. You can trust his words about suffering, but they might surprise you: “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is going to be revealed to us” (Rom. 8:18).

Yes, part of our deliverance and adoption is suffering. Suffering for Christ and suffering under the curse. But, friend, take heart. This suffering will end in glory. The deliverance is complete, but not yet fully realized. We must hang on a little bit longer—like the Israelites who had made it out of Egypt but not yet entered the Promised Land. So, “let us run with endurance the race that lies before us” (Heb. 12:1). 

After all, our Deliverer has come. Our Deliverer is standing by. 

Are you looking for ways to make Christmas more meaningful in your home this year? Beginning today on the Revive Our Hearts podcast, Nancy and friends share ways they escape the pressures and set their priorities for the holiday season. Listen to the series “Making Christmas More Meaningful.” 

 Words by Rich Mullins & Mitch McVicer, Liturgy Legacy Music/White Plastic Bag Music/Word Music

About the Author

Cindy Matson

Cindy Matson

Cindy Matson lives in a small Minnesota town with her husband, son and daughter, and ridiculous black dog. She enjoys reading books, drinking coffee, and coaching basketball. You can read more of her musings about God's Word at

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