Freedom

     Freedom from my sin did not begin with my love for Him, but it is, without argument, the opposite that calls me into liberty.  It is Christ who proved His love for me on a cross two thousand years ago.  Despite all power and authority, He submitted Himself to death and carried the sin of all generations--past, present, and future--to Golgotha.  He epitomized the servant-leader, displaying His tenacity to demand the best for my existence.  Christ elected to demonstrate that He is worthy to be entrusted with my well-being.

     The freedom from sin comes in my decision to trust.  It does not take root within my desire to please Him, my love for Him, or white-knuckled self-control.  These attributes are secondary, arising from the trust I place in Christ. If I rely on these motives, I have moved from Christ being the centrality of my freedom.  I have made myself into a god, becoming my own object of trust.

     The upside-down paradigm that Christ has created in our path to freedom has been twisted by the evil one.  Self-control equates to failure, toil, anxiety, and guilt.  The weight of our reflection of holiness falls upon our own shoulders.  The yoke of our pursuit of Christ becomes heavy. It was never meant to be heavy.

     The well-spring of liberty flows from trust.  Trust allows me to slip gently into a welcome submission to the One who loves me.  Trust empowers me to release from my grasp the temporary pleasures of sin because it cannot compare to the riches of a life within the safety of Christ.  Trust embraces the already demonstrated truth that the best for me flows from a sovereign Father.  I need only to choose to believe this truth.
   
     Trust is quiet, gentle to the spirit, restful,... without burden.  Trust carries a light yoke, allowing me to work and play within the watchful eye of my Father.

     This Father calls out for us to trust.  He pursues our trust. It is the power behind broken chains. Trust is the ticket to our freedom.