I know what it is like to be a prisoner.
I lost track of how long I sat there, on the cold, hard ground, trying to find oxygen in the thick air.
My wrists were red and raw from the metal shackles.
I was sore from not moving for so long, not even getting up for a minute to stretch my legs.
My throat was dry, my tongue heavy in my mouth, longing for even a droplet of water. I hadn't eaten real food in who knows how long, and my stomach was growling so loud I was certain that even heaven could hear it. If there was a heaven, that is.
Physically, I was exhausted and hurting.
But perhaps most of all, my soul was exhausted and hurting.
My mind was weary from the constant lies, a vicious war raging within my soul. My heart grew tired, ashamed of all of the things that got me here in the first place. I learned to hate myself, to hate the ways I had failed, to accept that I never deserved love and that I would never be more than what this place told me that I am. The weight of hopelessness was crushing, and anxiety grew within my soul. There was nothing to live for, the voice in my mind told me. This is all there is, all I am.
One day, I laid my head on the floor, the coolness calming to my racing heart. I had been here for so, so long. Light suddenly flowed into the room, breaking the consuming darkness that I learned to call home. A man entered my room, and He came to kneel beside me. With a gentle smile and a tender touch, He unlocked the chain around my wrist.
My body was so weak, and I was so confused, but He picked me up as if I was light as a feather. He carried me out, into the sunlight, and gave me an opportunity to stretch my legs. The birds were chirping, the grass so soft beneath my feet. He fed me and clothed me, wrapped His arms around me.
And in my ear, He whispered that He loved me.
It happened so quickly, and the feeling was so unexpected, but absolutely unforgettable. I broke down in sobs as the walls around my heart crumbled. I felt the anxiety melt away, the hopelessness vanish. The soil of my soul was not so hard and rough. I was lighter. The chains of shame loosened around me, until they dropped, and I could move. Not just walk, but dance and run and live.
It was a jailbreak.
I looked around me, and I wasn't the only one. Hundreds of thousands of people were outside with me, free. I thought I was alone in the prison, but I wasn't. We were neighbors in the same jail, bearing the same burdens, crying the same tears, and we never knew. Now, we are sharing in victory, in redemption, in hope.
We are all free.
As I was studying Galatians, the idea of being locked up in "prison" because of our sin and shame came up, and it created such imagery in my mind that I had to get it out. These words are like art to me, in a way, portraying the weight and darkness of sin and life without Jesus, but the immense hope and freedom that comes with life with Jesus. I felt my heart lighten as I wrote this story of redemption, and I hope that it brought the same encouragement to you. Because by Christ's blood, and in His name, we are free, free indeed, my friends.
This is my testimony, from death to life. This is our testimony, one that all believers share. For once we were trapped in the darkness, hopeless and ashamed, until Jesus walked in. And when He walked in, everything changed. The world began spinning, and life entered my bones. He changed my story, and He's still in the process of healing all of the broken parts that remain in my soul, but He is oh so kind and tender with me. He invites you into the same journey as well, and while I would warn you that it's not easy or pleasant or a vacation by any means, it is so beautiful. I am experiencing abundant life unlike any other, and I'm learning to walk in joy and freedom that cannot be shaken by earthly things. Jesus has changed my story, and He wants to change yours too.
