Free.
My heart always leaps at that word, because it's glorious and because I remember how it used to be - back when I was a foolish Galatian, a Pharisee of Pharisees, the older brother out in the field. Anything but free.
Some days the old chains still rattle in my ears. The clock is my enemy and the to-do list is a tyrant. The voice of the law shouts, urging me to do more, try harder, perform, perform, perform.
And I remind myself a thousand times: I don't have to listen to that voice any more.
I am free.
Grace untangled me from that mess of self-effort and self-reliance. There's a better way.
There is freedom from the condemnation, the exhaustion, the fear, the pretending, the striving to make God happy with me. There is freedom to sing, to dance, to celebrate. There is freedom, yes, even to stumble, because He catches me.
A new Voice speaks, offering rest - oh, how I've needed it. He offers hope and joy and peace. He offers assurance, blessed assurance...Jesus is mine and He's so much sweeter than the old way of the law.
Free.
I'll sing this song forever. How can I help it?
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