Too many suffocate under the pressure. Souls hushed behind the closed lid of a cultural box that lies. It tells you and me to stuff ourselves inside and fill ourselves full of worldly perspective when in the end it’s poison. Souls quieted under a numb stream of misrepresentations of truth.

Words from the dying surround, overhead and through speakers on our desks, pumping out sounds of comparison, “You’d be good enough, pretty enough, small enough, sexy enough, if…” And we buy in. Because it sounds intriguing like maybe this is what will ease that burning to be seen. All the while we’re missing the point.

It isn’t about becoming like her or having everything the world tries to sell. Because one thing will lead to another thing will lead to another, and we’re left sitting on the side of the road still begging for more. Because the thirst isn’t for things sold at some store.

Our soul wants its Maker. But it’s confused. It hears the promises down here of beauty and lust and achievement and self-elevation, and it’s left with a hunger that won’t quit. Because it can’t find its real home.

 

 

It forgets the infinite One whose sides and height and love never comes to an end. We step out of that box the world tries to stuff us in and we finally see. It’s Him we need.

Not need as in a trite passing-by, but need as in without Him I can’t breathe. Suffocating under the pressures of worldly lies that intrigue but don’t deliver.

Freedom. It happens solely in the release. The letting go of tangible falsities and clinging to the One who crafted you and me. Knowing that He embroidered us unique. Individually. Purposefully. Not meant to be stuffed into a cookie cutter box of lies. But meant to fly.

F r e e .

We cry out to the daughters and sons, and friends, who still stand on the ground with the box, looking in. Thinking that life is found by stuffing themselves inside. Of the lies.

But we have to be loud because the pounding down on the planet shouts convincingly. Strategically.

So we grab their hand and point to the Maker. The One whose love limits cannot be reached. The One who has plans crafted and joy gifted for those who believe. And they breathe Him deep and finally see that life isn’t found in a cheap box sold by a confused world. It’s found on a priceless cross. God bending down to set us free.

F o r f r e e d o m C h r i s t

has set us free;

s t a n d f i r m t h e r e f o r e ,

and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.

Galatians 5:1

 
Fill us full, Lord God, to overflowing.