This morning I had the great privilege of sitting under Desiree Mortensen’s teaching at Illuminate, the women’s ministry at Summit Church. She had been led to teach on what it means for us to walk in the freedom we’ve been given.
God reminded me of Revelation 12:10 (which is a bit of a life verse for me)… “For the accuser of our brothers and sisters, who accuses them before our God day and night has been hurled down.
They triumphed over him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony.”
I was reminded this morning that those “shoulds” are the voice of the accuser, who follows me around day and night — telling me that I am not trying hard enough, not loving my kids well enough. That I am not disciplined enough or accomplishing enough. The voice suggests that I am failing as a wife and mother and friend and daughter.
Perhaps you can relate.
This morning God’s Word reminded me that the accuser has been thrown down. And those accusations are chains we can walk by or take on. They have no more power to bind us. Our imperfections have been atoned for.
The accuser hopes only that we see them piled there with our name on them, forget that we have been redeemed and pick them up.
Too often I fall for that trap and choose to take them on. Picking up that bondage and forgetting what Paul says in his letter to the Galations:
5 It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.
So that is my kairos moment for today.
It is for freedom Christ has set me free. I don’t need to pick up the heavy weight of “shoulds” or listen to the voice who would quickly have me trade the truth of victory for the perception of failure.
The Lord has given me that schedule as a gift. He’s given me this messy house and rambunctious, needy little darlings as a gift. He’s given me a community to serve and to friends to love and a kingdom to advance — all gifts. And He’ll give me grace when I fall short (which I do, every single day) and freedom to enjoy them. I just have to claim it.
So maybe my life is 10 pieces of pie on a plate that looks like it only holds 6. Thankfully I know the baker and the plate maker and the one who cleans up the broken pieces when I drop the whole thing.
