shackled hands, shackled minds. Freedom beckons from this unexpected bondage and the search for the key begins. Oh foolish one, looking high and low. Pleading, crying, giving false authority to the mind. If only he or she would DO this or that, would come unlock the door... the freedom we ache for in the pit of our being would surely be ours. The turmoil rages and an intertwining conversation between flesh- tainted mind and Creator mixes as unnaturally as oil and water. The noise is loud and deception fights relentlessly for the victory. The Spirit quietly urges - press on, wade through the dense filth. Weak and worn we wade, clinging to the Truth we know is present, even if it is buried beneath seemingly impenetrable rubble. All the while the prison door stands thick and heavy, but is not bound by lock and key. No, it is held closed only by its weight. It has been this way from the beginning. It sits waiting to be victoriously pushed open. I sit and wait too. My flesh-tainted mind that fights to be kept in perfect peace cautiously ponders...Are You sure? Sure that You hold the key? Sure that You alone provide the freedom? Doubt rolls in dressed in a cloudy fog and tries hard to do it's job. A Yes is confirmed in my spirit. And I no longer pose the question but am required to provide an answer. Will you trust? Will you accept? Will you open the door? The Spirit of God rushes warmly into my captured heart and whispers,
"I alone hold the key and the door has been opened for you."
And I give up my answers.
And they are all yes.
I will choose Your freedom.
Rest floods in after the storm and I am free.
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