We Are Not Our Own

Our lives are not our own.

We hear that over and over in church settings. It tends to go in my left ear and out my right. But our lives truly aren’t our own. We don’t choose when we’re born and we don’t get to decide the day of our departure (unless we violate the principles of life).

We are in the hands of a creator. The Creator. I was feeling distant from God this morning. I get that way if I get sidetracked and stop tuning into Him. As I was trying to find my way back to that sweet place, I said to Him, “You really do love me even when I stop talking or ignore you.”

He responded, “When you’re not doing?”

His point being: You are viewing my love as dependent on what you do, not who you are: My beloved child.

That caught my attention. I want to walk free from performance with a fierceness you can’t imagine. I crave that freedom. So many Christian terms have become bubble-wrapped in a religious mindset. For me anyway. They trip off our lips so easily they’ve lost their meaning and power.

Mercy. Grace. Redemption. Sanctification.

What do those words truly mean?

When we talk about being wrapped in His arms of love, do we really feel wrapped by Him? Do we steal into a place of freedom and love that His presence is supposed to bring?

I do. But I don’t know if many people follow that invitation. Or if they even know what freedom looks like.

I have met him in the still places of my heart. I’ve heard his laughter, felt His arms around me and looked into His eyes.

And I want more. I want to dive into the deep places of God.

That’s His desire for each one of us.

Want to join me?