Locations & Times

They promise them freedom, while they themselves are slaves to depravity-for people are slaves to whatever has mastered them. —2 Peter 2:19 (NIV)

My sprint toward freedom began when I was nineteen. I was ready to explore, escape, and be free from my childhood. Growing up in the nineties, I thought freedom was a Nike slogan, “Just Do It,” and that if I had love, I had it all. However, I learned the hard way that freedom is not found in a quick romance but can only be experienced through complete surrender.  

Luke 15:11 tells the Parable of the Lost Son. A young man asks for an advance on his inheritance. He felt entitled to enjoy a little rebellion, but it wasn’t long before he found himself both financially and spiritually broke. Maybe you’ve felt this way too—graduating high school, watching too many movies about college parties, quick relationships, and the responsibilities that would eventually come, just not right now. If so, you’ve probably also found yourself like the lost son, ending up in a place you didn’t plan, feeling defeated, sorrowful, and remorseful.  

My childhood wasn’t exactly rough, but it wasn’t easy either. My mother struggled with mental health issues, and the only thing we could rely on was our financial instability. My mother’s mantra was “I don’t want roots; I want wings,” which meant we were expected to fly right alongside her, no matter where the wind took us. Soon after high school graduation, I did what any girl fascinated by romance and freedom would do: I fell in love and got married.  

I soon felt trapped. My immature heart craved more. I believed I deserved some freedom, and as a young wife, I was self-focused and spiritually empty. I ran alongside sin as if it were a friend, but only when no one else was watching. I was arrogant enough to think I could fool God.  

In my mid-twenties, I was divorced and a single mother of two children. My pursuit of freedom didn’t turn out as I had hoped. Motherhood didn’t make me feel confined, but the parenting schedule did. I had to negotiate time and holidays as if my children were a timeshare. In utter despair, like the prodigal son, I found myself crawling back to my Heavenly Father. I had not only shattered my life but also the roots I longed for as a child …I couldn’t give to my children. 

This season of resentment and regret led me to a time of repentance. However, my reunion with Jesus still lacked a deep and personal connection. Salvation was meant to free me from hell, but why did it still feel like I was living in it? I was unsure what to do after confession. 

Have you ever felt like Jesus’ silence meant he was disappointed? 

I struggled for years to understand the other side of salvation. There is still a lot I don’t know; however, I am learning to trade my need for answers for trust. During those years, I often found myself crying in the car, driving to and from pickups, overwhelmed with tears or playing worship music loudly. I talked to God, sharing all my emotions, both good and bad. I prayed often, especially for my children. My search for freedom left me and those I love deeply wounded, but because of Jesus and His ultimate sacrifice on the cross, His wounds would heal ours. 

True freedom is available to both you and me when we release our slave-like mindset and focus on renewing our minds with Christ. The circumstances may stay the same, but we don't have to remain bound by them. Is there any area in your life that appears to be freedom but is actually a form of bondage? 

If this encouraged you, check out more articles from our Flatirons Spiritual Formation Team for practical tools, encouragement, and ways to grow in your faith and leadership. Click here.