Redeemed and Still Imprisoned

I remember the day very clearly. It was a Sunday afternoon; I had just climbed back into bed to rest, as had become my daily habit for the last several weeks. As I went to lie down I felt this guilt that prompted me to want to apologize to my husband for my laziness. I felt ashamed for my lack of productivity, and yet, every day I felt so exhausted it was all I could think to do. Just as I was forming the words to justify my sluggishness, something inside me put the brakes on that path of thinking and I found myself peeling myself back up off the bed with new resolve. I heard myself say out loud, “This is ridiculous. I can’t keep living like this. I need to do something.” Against every desire of my body I donned those dusty old workout clothes, laced up my tennis shoes, and, before I could reason with myself, found myself down on the treadmill. That was the day I began my most recent fitness journey. I had honest, noble intentions—healthy ambitions. I knew that I was not honoring the body that God gave me by continuing to make unhealthy choices, and I knew that I needed to make some changes. I wanted to have energy to keep up with my children, to care for the home God allowed me to be a steward of, and to be a loving wife to my husband.

Over the next several months I worked and I trained. I became stronger physically as well as mentally. I remember the day that I finally finished a very challenging 30 day fitness program. I took a picture and I posted it on Facebook along with a caption that included the phrase, “I’m proud of me.” I had tears in my eyes as I said those words about myself. I pushed myself to limits I didn’t know I was capable of. But, most of all I had overcame the desire to quit. I persevered when it was tough and I did it anyway, even when I didn’t want to. I was growing in character. These were good things—God-honoring things.

That is, until it wasn’t.

At some point over the next year, my ambitions became obsessions. My goals became addictions. Where it had once been a challenge to exercise, it now consumed me. Thoughts of calories and food choices filled up every spare inch of space in my brain. The healthy lifestyle changes I had made had become a banner of pride that I carried proudly. I looked down on others from my throne of self-righteousness. I craved the attention and praise that I received. Sometimes people acknowledged my hard work, other times the changes I had made physically, but it always fed the beast that was growing within me—the drive to always achieve more. No matter how much weight I lost, or how much my body transformed, it was never enough. I never felt satisfied. Every goal I reached was quickly met with a new goal that demanded more progress. My expectations were unrealistic, and the perception I had developed of my body was tainted. I couldn’t walk past a mirror without being met with self-criticism and judgment. At one point I was unable to identify even one thing that I could say I liked about my body with complete honesty. Once I had put on those lenses of criticism and negativity, every image I viewed was tainted with that mentality.

On the outside, I was achieving what had once been a healthy ambition. Inside, on the other hand, beneath the surface of health and fitness, I was living in a prison of self-hatred and misery. I had sacrificed my freedom for the complete captivity of vanity and pride. I felt like every bit of energy I had was devoted to my appearance, and I was a slave to this unstoppable drive within me to perform, achieve, and transform. As I continued to lose weight physically, I carried an ever-increasing weight on my soul that kept me from being free. If I wasn’t free to love myself, neither was I free to really love others. Then, one day, as I cried out to God, asking him to free me from this captivity, I very clearly felt him impress upon my soul these words,

“I have redeemed you for more than this.”

God was gently reminding me that he sacrificed everything for me. He paid the highest price for me. He suffered for me. And yet, what was I doing with that freedom he had bought for me? I squandered it with selfish pride and vanity. I exchanged the grace and mercy he had freely given to me for chains of judgment and self-condemnation. In addition to this, God reminded me that my freedom wasn’t for me. He softly whispered, “I have anointed you to proclaim the good news to the poor. I have sent you to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives, and the release from darkness for the prisoners.” While I was busy consuming myself with thoughts of me, I was distracted from the things of God’s kingdom. I had made my world so small that I stopped seeing everything around me that truly mattered. I had allowed my perspective to shift from the eternal to all things temporal and fleeting.

 Satan is crafty and cunning. He loves to take what was intended for good and pervert it. He twists what is noble and honorable until it becomes destructive and deadly. He planted a seed of pride in my mind, and I was more than happy to water and care for it until it consumed me, choking out all of the Godly intentions I started with. So, I ask you, where have you traded the truth of God for a lie? Where have you sacrificed your freedom for captivity? How might you be squandering the price that God paid for you? Because, He redeemed you for more.