Here is another startling freedom: we are free to fail. Let me say that again. We are free to fail. Because of Jesus, we can be free from the cages of other people’s expectations, demands, yokes, and judgments—even our own.
This isn’t about getting it perfect, dear one. We are loved, forgiven, embraced; we live under grace, not under judgment. It sets us free from perfectionism, which is a terrible prison. It sets us free to fail.
The most dangerous man on earth is the man who has reckoned with his own death. All men die; few men ever really live. Sure, you can create a safe life for yourself . . . and end your days in a rest home babbling on about some forgotten misfortune. I'd rather go down swinging. Besides, the less we are trying to "save ourselves," the more effective a warrior we will be. Listen to G. K. Chesterton on courage:
Every man wants a battle to fight. It's the whole thing with boys and weapons. And look at the movies men love—Braveheart, Gladiator, Top Gun, High Noon, Saving Private Ryan.
Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the LORD God had made. He said to the woman, "Did God really say, 'You must not eat from any tree in the garden'?"
The woman said to the serpent, "We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but God did say, 'You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.'"
Man’s love is of man’s life a thing apart
’Tis a woman’s whole existence. (Byron)
God is a romantic at heart, and his jealousy is for the hearts of his people and for their freedom. As Francis Frangipane so truly states, "Rescue is the constant pattern of God's activity." For Zion's sake I will not keep silent, for Jerusalem's sake I will not remain quiet, till her righteousness shines out like the dawn, her salvation like a blazing torch . . . As a bridegroom rejoices over his bride, so will your God rejoice over you. (Isa. 62:1, 5)
A Story. An Epic.
Something hidden in the ancient past.
Something dangerous now unfolding.
Something waiting in the future for us to discover.
Some crucial role for us to play.
For what shall we do when we wake one day to find we have lost touch with our heart and with it the very refuge where God's presence resides?
During a long layover at O'Hare, I studied the man who sells popcorn from a little stand in one of the terminal hallways. He sat silently on a stool as thousands of people rushed by.