shackles

I have watched someone I love remain in bondage for so long that I wonder if he will ever feel the wind of freedom across his face.I feel the scrape of his shackles against me as he shuffles angrily by, and I wonder, "how long, Lord?" I stand in his path with open arms, but he elbows past, unable to stretch out his arms, bound at the wrists. I grow weary of being knocked down by his pain flying at me through disrespect.I've watched him seething in anger, arms folded so tight they might crush his own chest, refusing to release his rage on the punching bag before him. He chooses shackles.My heart breaks; his story so tragic, but my compassion is not enough for him. He clings so tightly to his pain that he cannot take hold of my love. He chooses his shackles over and over.Wounds, deep wounds, left alone eventually become shackles of fear, anger, bitterness, and anxiety.

wounds that fester

How foolish would it be to ignore a gunshot wound, thinking that time would heal torn flesh and bleeding arteries?  Bandages may stop the bleeding, but the bullet must come out and something given to fight infection.A wounded soul, unattended will fester just the same.This one I love takes half steps in his shackles of fear and anxiety, unable to feel the freedom of a full stride or the wind in his face. He lives most days arms folded across his chest, held down by anger and bitterness, unable to accept the embrace of those who love him.I pray and weep for his freedom.

We are not our wound

He was a victim in a tragic story, but that is many of us in some way. Some stories harder than others, but we all have a story. I don't understand, but somewhere along the way a story can take over our identity and we can remain the victim, and nothing more for the rest of our journey......if we choose.In a story, there are different roles, and sadly we may be forced to play the role of the victim. It may be our role for a moment in history, or even a season, but it is never our identity. Its' not who we are. We are not the sum of what has happened to us, words said to us, words not said that should have been.Wounds become shackles as they whisper lies in the depths of our minds and souls. The victim of abuse believes, "I am unlovable." A survivor of neglect accepts the lie, "I must be worthless." Beautiful girls violated by evil men look in the mirror and agree with the lie, "I am dirty." The orphan abandoned believes the lie of rejection and says, "I don't belong."A wound comes with a lie that when believed becomes a shackle. A shackle worn long enough becomes an identity. Victim.

Hope of freedom

The thing about these shackles; they have no locks, no one is holding us prisoner. We are free to go. Why then, is this one I love still wearing his shackles?Breaking free involves facing those who wounded us (figuratively or literally), acknowledging the wounds, and then forgiving. Going back to face our painful past is hard, and most hope that it will just go away. Some pretend it didn't happen or feel like, "I should be over this by now."The people of God, the Israelites of the Old Testament, while on their journey to the Promised Land begged Moses to take them back to slavery in Egypt. It was all they knew, and they had become comfortable in bondage. Anything else seemed more frightening than their years of slavery because it was not familiar.We can be so afraid to deal with the pain, that we live our days bound by it. Isn't that painful too? Time does not heal all wounds. That simply is not true. It's not going to just go away. Wounds not exposed and healed eventually become our identity. Wounded. Victim.Living life in shackles is painful to those around us as they try to love us. Being bound up by our brokenness and living out its lies pushes love away when it finds us.Facing our hurtful history and forgiving does not mean that we are setting the wounder free or saying what was done to us is acceptable. Forgiving is how we set ourselves free. It's how we step out of our shackles and shake our hands free, opening our arms to the love that is right in front of us.This one I love will need help on his journey to freedom. Trauma and tragedy can deeply affect our brains when we are young. I believe, even though some days seem hopeless, that healing will happen, that freedom will be his.

choose freedom

What about you? What has you bound? How long will you shuffle through life in shackles? Reach out to someone and ask them to help you break free. There are no locks and your identity is not your wound. If you are a Christ follower, your identity is found in him. You are loved, accepted, worthy, and secure.It's hard to follow Jesus into your future dragging your past hurt with you.Don't allow your pain to determine your future. Do whatever it takes to be free. Find the courage to face your brokenness, ask for help.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. Galatians 5:1