My Prison


I see the destination not far ahead. I’m almost there. So excited! Thoughts of anticipation race through my mind as I ponder all the things I want to do, see, experience in this new place. It will be so awesome to experience this place of freedom and love.  I will relax into the life that I was always meant to have.

As I take the next step, I am sharply pained by the shackle around my wrist. The shackle that holds me back from the land I see outside through the bars of my prison. The chains that connect my shackles to the ground are cold and loud. Oh, how I long to be free of them!  One choice made long ago gave Satan permission to put these invisible shackles on my frail arms and to place me in this invisible prison. I have twisted and wiggled and screamed and fought to get these things off me. I have begged and pleaded, prayed and cried. Still, He only says, “My grace is sufficient for you”.  That’s not the answer that I want!

I collapse to the ground in full surrender. My wrists are red and bleeding from all the fighting. I give up. I accept this so long as it endures. How do I survive it? How do I deal with it? I praise Him in the storm. What did Paul do while imprisoned?

When the fellow prisoner mocked and taunted me tonight, this time I chose to praise God. I found my strength in Him. I did not fight. I let Him be my peace, my hope, my joy. The prison guard nor the fellow prisoner cannot cause me to hurt myself fighting any longer.

If I must drink from this cup, Your will be done and not my own. I long for that land outside the window, but I trust that I will have it in your perfect timing even if it’s not until after this life is over. I will praise You anyway. That is my vow.

 

 

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