I had a dream that I was dying and it was the most alive I’ve ever felt.  The basic premise was that I’d been kidnapped and had no conceivable way to get back home or even live through the next minute. I was being threatened by the attackers to follow their orders when I realized, “I’m the daughter of the King Most High, what can they do to me?” I fought the enemy with passion, knowing the battle has already been won through Christ.  The being God created in me is untouchable by human hands. Nothing the enemy could do to me mattered. God would have justice for any wrong done to me and if I died my spirit would be home at last. But in that moment I was LIVING.  Living in total freedom though I was a captive. My faith was in the Lord and I couldn’t make a wrong move. There was none of my usual hesitation, worrying over my next step, or fear of failure. If I stepped left, I was in God’s hands, if I stepped right I was still in His hands. I wasn’t confident in my own physical prowess and ability, I was confident that I belong to God and He loves me beyond my scope of understanding.  

“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written,

“For your sake we are being killed all the day long;

we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.”

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”  — Romans 8:35-39

  Being His daughter doesn’t mean never being in danger, increasingly in our world it means we’ll be at greater risk.  Being His means I’m never alone to face the danger, He is a real and present help in times of trouble.

“For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’” –Romans 8:15

  I couldn’t save myself, but if it was His will for me to live, then I would live no matter the odds against me.  I already knew I was as good as dead with the situation I was in, so I wasn’t fighting for my life in the fear of death, I was fighting in the acceptance of physical death, and incredibly-

It. Was. Awesome.                                                                                                                              

For a girl who is usually tangled up in an, “I would if I could but I can’t so I won’t,” mentality, being free to move untethered was thrilling. I was completely submitted to God’s will being done, no matter what that meant for me personally, because I was in absolute assurance that I belong to Him and that He has numbered my days.  Submitting to God isn’t bondage, it’s freedom. Let me say that again- Because I trusted God’s will to be done, I was free to live out the fullness of who He created me to be.

Submitting to God isn’t bondage, it’s freedom.

In the weeks after the dream I was a little worried. It seemed that maybe the source of the freedom I felt stemmed from being alone in the dream; maybe the freedom was a lack of things to live for. That was concerning because I’m a wife and mom with family and friends and work to do. I have a lot to live for, but I wanted that joyously free feeling back.  Could I regain that freedom with so many ties holding me? Here was my hope, God gave me the family and friends, He also gave me the dream for a reason, so it all had to fit together…somehow.

God asked me to sort through the differences between the dream and reality. It boiled down to this. In the dream I wasn’t worried about anything.  All things having to do with my family and daily life were beyond my reach, so I had to let them go.  I couldn’t control anything so there was no point in worrying over them, in stirring up fear or pride over possible outcomes of every decision made. In the dream I counted myself as already dead, because the circumstances were impossible to survive. My life, my goals, my control, all gone.  All I had left was God and His will, His plans, His control and it was in this death of self that I was set FREE.

Submitting to God isn’t bondage, it’s freedom.

“For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit. For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God’s law; indeed, it cannot. Those who are in the flesh cannot please God.-”-Romans 8:5-8

I asked God how to do that in my real life, I can’t very well just quit caring about my people and the life we’ve built.  I actually started listing the things that I can’t let go of, the things I need to manage. (Yes, I was trying to prove my point to God. Ugh. Red flag.)

My list:

My kids

My husband

My work

My dreams

He pointed out the common word on my list.  My my my.  I thought I was being selfless(ish) in that my list was (mostly) about others.  Not so.  It was about MY will being done in the lives of those I love, about MY idea of good coming true for them.  

God reminded me who the Creator is.  He’s not just my Creator- He made each and every person on my list and loves them even more than I do.  Immeasurably more.  He PUT the desires of my heart IN my heart, so at what point did I think I needed to be the one in charge of His creation?  There I was on the throne again.  (Sorry Lord, I’ll just hop down offa there. Again.)

I had taken on ownership of all His work.  I’d made myself the master rather than the servant.  I was praying asking God for help with MY world, to do what I thought needed done.  But if it’s my world, then the weight, worry and responsibility all lie with me.  That isn’t freedom.  Knowing my life and everyone in it belong to God – His to do with as He sees fit – giving the illusion of control up and trusting in His will….

Submitting to God isn’t bondage, it’s freedom.

The dream wasn’t false.  It wasn’t a self-help manual in case I’m ever kidnapped. It was meant to show me the truth of how I’m living now. I’ve been pulled from home (being in unity with God) by the enemy. Intimidated by him into existing in fear and grasping for authority that isn’t mine. Struggling in my own strength to make things happen, to get free. Exhausted. Willing at last to die to self if it meant drawing near to God again. Surrendering to my Creator. Freedom.  If we could just be still and know that He is God.  He has already paid our ransom.  We have only to accept it- to live in the freedom of being His.  

So is the idea just to sit back, relax, pray about it and God will do your chores? Ha! No.  Unfortunately giving ownership back to God still does not exempt you from housework. It does not exclude you from doing to work He’s set out for you, from caring for the gifts He’s given you.  It does however give you the freedom to MOVE. To live out the fullness of the being He created you to be.  To fight with passion, to choose right or left knowing He’s got you covered either way.  

“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.”–Romans 8:28 ESV

So sleep in peace. And if life feels out of your control? Good.  It’s supposed to be.