Don't Trade Freedom for Familiar
There's something deeply ironic about the human condition: we long for freedom, yet when we finally receive it, we often find ourselves reaching back for the very chains that once bound us.
The Comfort of Captivity
Imagine someone who's been locked up for so long that they no longer remember how to live outside prison walls. The structure, the rules, the routines they once despised have become their comfort zone. Some people, unable to cope with freedom, intentionally reoffend just to return to what's familiar. Not because they love the cell, but because the cell is predictable.
This psychological phenomenon—being institutionalized—reveals something about our spiritual lives. When God delivers us from the prison of sin and legalism, we should celebrate. Instead, as soon as things get hard or unfamiliar, we find ourselves longing for what used to be.
The nation of Israel experienced this firsthand. Delivered from the brutal oppression of Egypt through miraculous signs—plagues, a parted sea, pillars of fire and cloud—they witnessed God's power and presence in undeniable ways. Yet when hunger struck in the wilderness, their first impulse was to complain: "It would have been better for us to die back in Egypt. At least we had food and drink."
They had just witnessed the impossible, yet they wanted to return to slavery. Why? Because familiar chains are still chains, even when you know every link by heart.
The Trap of Tradition
In Galatians 4:8-20, Paul confronts believers who were trading their newfound freedom in Christ for old religious traditions. The Judaizers had convinced them that faith in Jesus wasn't enough—they needed to observe special days, months, seasons, and years. They needed to follow Jewish customs and laws to truly please God.
The traditions themselves weren't inherently wrong. Many Jewish observances are beautiful, meaningful practices that point toward the coming Messiah. The problem arose when these traditions became idols rather than pathways to God. When ritual replaced relationship, and performance replaced faith.
Paul's anguish is palpable: "I am again suffering labor pains for you until Christ is formed in you." He had already labored to help them understand grace, and now they were slipping back into legalism.
Why We Crave Control Over Trust
Here's the uncomfortable truth: grace requires trust, while legalism only requires control.
When we can check off boxes, follow rules, and measure our spiritual progress by our performance, we feel in control. We know where we stand. But grace? Grace asks us to trust God completely, to surrender control, to live in the tension of being fully known yet fully loved.
We confuse peace with comfort. Jesus brings peace—a supernatural calm in the midst of any storm. But He doesn't promise comfort. In fact, Jesus Himself said, "I don't have a place to lay down my head." The cross certainly wasn't comfortable.
Yet we keep searching for a comfortable Jesus, one who fits neatly into our preferences and doesn't disrupt our routines. But Jesus was the ultimate disruptor. He challenged everything the religious establishment believed, healing on the Sabbath, eating with sinners, declaring that the poor were blessed and the last would be first.
The Danger of Outgrown Traditions
There's a story about a family recipe passed down through generations. Each cook would cut the roast in half before baking it. When a young girl finally asked why, the family discovered that the great-grandmother had only done it because her oven was too small. The tradition had outlived its original need, yet everyone kept following it without question.
Sometimes our spiritual practices are like that roast. What worked twenty years ago may not be what God is calling us to today. The methods change even though the message remains the same. God Himself is unchanging in His character and attributes, but He's constantly at work, moving and adapting how He reaches people.
Tradition should point us forward, not hold us back. We can learn from the past without living in it.
The Truth That Sets Us Free
"The truth will set you free, but first it may make you uncomfortable."
Paul had become an enemy to the Galatians simply because he told them the truth. They had welcomed him initially as an angel of God—a messenger sent directly from heaven. They would have torn out their own eyes and given them to him, such was their devotion. But when the Judaizers arrived with their appealing message of control and performance, the Galatians turned against Paul.
The truth is rarely popular, and it will ruffle feathers. We don't like being told we're wrong, especially when we've invested time and energy into a particular way of thinking or living. But like medicine that tastes bitter yet heals, truth administered with love produces spiritual health.
The goal isn't discomfort for its own sake. A coach doesn't push athletes just to watch them sweat. The pain, the repetition, the challenge—it's all strategic, targeted toward drawing out potential and producing greatness. Similarly, God uses pastors, teachers, and fellow believers to shape us into the image of Christ, even when that shaping feels uncomfortable.
You Are Fully Known and Fully Loved
In C.S. Lewis' "The Voyage of the Dawn Treader," young Lucy feels unsure of herself and unseen. Then Aslan, the great lion representing Christ, looks at her and says simply, "Child, I know you."
Not "I know about you." But "I know you."
This is the essence of being adopted by grace: we are known by God. He knows our fears, our hopes, our mistakes, our hearts. He's seen it all—every thought, every failure, every secret shame—and He has chosen us anyway.
You are fully known and fully loved.
The King of kings knows your name. The great I Am has counted every hair on your head. And He loves you so much that He sent His Son to die on a cross, paying the price for your sins so you could have freedom.
Living in Victory
If you're a believer with freedom in Christ, don't go back to the old ways. Don't trade your freedom for the familiar. The cell may feel safe, but it's still a cell.
Leave the old stuff behind. Crucify it. Bury it. Be done with it.
Live in the victory Christ has already won for you. Trust Him even when it's uncomfortable. Follow Him even when it means change. And remember always: you are His, fully known and fully loved.
The Comfort of Captivity
Imagine someone who's been locked up for so long that they no longer remember how to live outside prison walls. The structure, the rules, the routines they once despised have become their comfort zone. Some people, unable to cope with freedom, intentionally reoffend just to return to what's familiar. Not because they love the cell, but because the cell is predictable.
This psychological phenomenon—being institutionalized—reveals something about our spiritual lives. When God delivers us from the prison of sin and legalism, we should celebrate. Instead, as soon as things get hard or unfamiliar, we find ourselves longing for what used to be.
The nation of Israel experienced this firsthand. Delivered from the brutal oppression of Egypt through miraculous signs—plagues, a parted sea, pillars of fire and cloud—they witnessed God's power and presence in undeniable ways. Yet when hunger struck in the wilderness, their first impulse was to complain: "It would have been better for us to die back in Egypt. At least we had food and drink."
They had just witnessed the impossible, yet they wanted to return to slavery. Why? Because familiar chains are still chains, even when you know every link by heart.
The Trap of Tradition
In Galatians 4:8-20, Paul confronts believers who were trading their newfound freedom in Christ for old religious traditions. The Judaizers had convinced them that faith in Jesus wasn't enough—they needed to observe special days, months, seasons, and years. They needed to follow Jewish customs and laws to truly please God.
The traditions themselves weren't inherently wrong. Many Jewish observances are beautiful, meaningful practices that point toward the coming Messiah. The problem arose when these traditions became idols rather than pathways to God. When ritual replaced relationship, and performance replaced faith.
Paul's anguish is palpable: "I am again suffering labor pains for you until Christ is formed in you." He had already labored to help them understand grace, and now they were slipping back into legalism.
Why We Crave Control Over Trust
Here's the uncomfortable truth: grace requires trust, while legalism only requires control.
When we can check off boxes, follow rules, and measure our spiritual progress by our performance, we feel in control. We know where we stand. But grace? Grace asks us to trust God completely, to surrender control, to live in the tension of being fully known yet fully loved.
We confuse peace with comfort. Jesus brings peace—a supernatural calm in the midst of any storm. But He doesn't promise comfort. In fact, Jesus Himself said, "I don't have a place to lay down my head." The cross certainly wasn't comfortable.
Yet we keep searching for a comfortable Jesus, one who fits neatly into our preferences and doesn't disrupt our routines. But Jesus was the ultimate disruptor. He challenged everything the religious establishment believed, healing on the Sabbath, eating with sinners, declaring that the poor were blessed and the last would be first.
The Danger of Outgrown Traditions
There's a story about a family recipe passed down through generations. Each cook would cut the roast in half before baking it. When a young girl finally asked why, the family discovered that the great-grandmother had only done it because her oven was too small. The tradition had outlived its original need, yet everyone kept following it without question.
Sometimes our spiritual practices are like that roast. What worked twenty years ago may not be what God is calling us to today. The methods change even though the message remains the same. God Himself is unchanging in His character and attributes, but He's constantly at work, moving and adapting how He reaches people.
Tradition should point us forward, not hold us back. We can learn from the past without living in it.
The Truth That Sets Us Free
"The truth will set you free, but first it may make you uncomfortable."
Paul had become an enemy to the Galatians simply because he told them the truth. They had welcomed him initially as an angel of God—a messenger sent directly from heaven. They would have torn out their own eyes and given them to him, such was their devotion. But when the Judaizers arrived with their appealing message of control and performance, the Galatians turned against Paul.
The truth is rarely popular, and it will ruffle feathers. We don't like being told we're wrong, especially when we've invested time and energy into a particular way of thinking or living. But like medicine that tastes bitter yet heals, truth administered with love produces spiritual health.
The goal isn't discomfort for its own sake. A coach doesn't push athletes just to watch them sweat. The pain, the repetition, the challenge—it's all strategic, targeted toward drawing out potential and producing greatness. Similarly, God uses pastors, teachers, and fellow believers to shape us into the image of Christ, even when that shaping feels uncomfortable.
You Are Fully Known and Fully Loved
In C.S. Lewis' "The Voyage of the Dawn Treader," young Lucy feels unsure of herself and unseen. Then Aslan, the great lion representing Christ, looks at her and says simply, "Child, I know you."
Not "I know about you." But "I know you."
This is the essence of being adopted by grace: we are known by God. He knows our fears, our hopes, our mistakes, our hearts. He's seen it all—every thought, every failure, every secret shame—and He has chosen us anyway.
You are fully known and fully loved.
The King of kings knows your name. The great I Am has counted every hair on your head. And He loves you so much that He sent His Son to die on a cross, paying the price for your sins so you could have freedom.
Living in Victory
If you're a believer with freedom in Christ, don't go back to the old ways. Don't trade your freedom for the familiar. The cell may feel safe, but it's still a cell.
Leave the old stuff behind. Crucify it. Bury it. Be done with it.
Live in the victory Christ has already won for you. Trust Him even when it's uncomfortable. Follow Him even when it means change. And remember always: you are His, fully known and fully loved.
Recent
Archive
2025
April
May
June
August
September
Categories
no categories
No Comments