Posts Tagged ‘freedom’


The next day, I prayed again.  I went early to a triathlon race where I ran into a man who had acted as a father figure to me for several years in my mid twenties.  I had not seen this man in quite some time but ten years ago he taught me to swim and trained me for my first marathon.  He always encouraged me like a dad would.

As I got into the pool I realized my goggles were not adjusted right as my kids use them often.  I tried to fix them, but every time I swam a stroke, water entered into my eyes.  I made several attempts but I could not get them right.  I began to swim backstroke instead because I cannot stand water in my eyes.

As I swam, I thought about how I must live this way.  I must live looking up at all times or I am going to be completely blind.  God was teaching me.

When I began the bike portion of the race, I saw a church marquee that read, “Faith for your decisions, Part 2.” I literally laughed out loud because I knew what God was saying.  I have not made my decisions in faith in the past.  Part 1 was not faithful.  But he is opening a new chapter for me concerning how to follow him in true and saving faith.

I biked for several miles and just as I entered a hollow of shade trees, I thought of my dad.  Every time I go through a hollow on a country road, I think of him because when he got sick (when I was 11) we always took 857 to Morgantown to visit him.  I knew when we went though the hollow we were close to seeing daddy – whom I missed terribly.  I knew God would show up.  Just as I entered the hollow and thought of daddy, my friend who had taught me to swim and distance run appeared from around the bend coming the other way.  “Good job, Lori,” he said.  Those are words I never really got to hear from my dad.  What are the chances that he would enter that hollow coming from the other way at that very moment? It was not a coincidence. God, my Father whom I have missed so much was meeting me.

As I was running, I was coming onto the track toward the finish and a song I associate with the excommunication came on.  Next, a song I associate with a severed relationship from the dark period came on.  The two darkest realities I faced over two years ago were both associated with a song and both songs played at the finish of this race.  God was speaking.  He was in that and he is in this – healing.  He showed me that it is finished.

After I finished my father-like friend gave me a hug and said, “I’m proud of you.”  That’s what daddy would have said if he were there.

The doctor told me the reason God wants to heal me is for freedom.  So I will be free from anxiety and worry and discouragement and sin.  The race was put on by an organization known as “Faith in action” – a Christian hospice and home care agency.  Their sign at the end of the race had their motto which read, “A neighbor’s independence depends on you.”

Freedom .  Independence.  Mine and yours.  That is why I am sharing this awesome, bizarre, crazy story with you.  God wants to give us freedom from fear, discouragement, depression, and anxiety.  I know beyond the shadow of a doubt he does.

As I drove home I noticed a cloud in the sky that was shaped like a heart and  – I kid you not – inside that cloud was a brighter white cloud in the form of a “u.”  Love u.  It was God.  No doubt.  Not a moment later a huge billboard read, “Who is Jesus” in all caps and another said, “A father is who picks you up after you fall.”  Then I entered back into Pennsylvania from West Virginia and the sign said, “Welcome to Pennsylvania, state of independence.”  Did you know that was our motto?? I didn’t.  I thought we were the keystone state or something.  God was lavishing his love upon me, assuring me as my father, giving me freedom, and bringing me back home.  That is what he is doing.  I have no doubt no matter how unreal this all sounds to other people.

I was so smitten and overwhelmed by God’s love by this point that I literally missed my exit and did not realize it for many miles.  When I finally realized that I was lost, I got on the toll road and came home a completely different, longer way.  As I came past a church the Holy Spirit spoke very clearly to me and said, “Go to that church and pray for the person who is there.”

I second guessed several times but knew the command was clear.  I am not one to do this kind of thing – ever.  I have, but it has probably been fifteen years since – back in those early days when I trusted God like a child.  So, I reluctantly turned around telling myself surely no one will be there at noon on a beautiful Saturday.  No one in sight, so I pulled behind the church to turn around and a man sat on a lawn mower right in front of me.

I stalled a few moments wondering if I should just leave or pretend I needed directions but God said, “Pray for that man!”  So I got out and told him I was reformed but God made me.  He was the pastor and said the man who cuts grass was ill that day.  God wanted to encourage that man through me.

Later that night we went out to dinner for a friend’s birthday and to hear a band.  About halfway through the night, back behind the band I noticed a picture hanging on the wall at a table set back by itself.  As I got closer I realized the picture was of a red bird in the woods.  When I run I always look for red birds because they remind me of my dad.  I used to specifically ask the Lord to show me a red bird when I was thinking of my dad and he often would.

I have no doubt that these seeming coincidences are really and truly God moving in my life to restore, heal, and use me for his glory.


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“What does fasting do?” my husband asks.

“It makes you hungry,” the ever so honest Sunday school-er replies.

“It makes you focus on God.”

Sometimes focusing on God means sacrificing.  Other times it means imbibing.  Extremists like me often have trouble recognizing that it is both/and not either/or.  Our problem presents when we begin to lean too far into only one direction.  We begin to forget that the other side of the coin is equally pleasing to God and good for our spiritual lives.

The one who finds faith in fasting must figure out how to find freedom in filling up.  The one who finds faith in filling up must figure out how to find freedom in fasting.

As I ran another very slow postpartum four miler I considered my position.  I am slower than I have ever been.  I weigh more than I ever have.  I have more responsibility and less time.  But I also have more love and less worry; better friends and less loneliness; more patience and less sadness.

It occurred to me that I am allowed to be happy with where I am right now — even though right now I am not nearly what I once was in some areas.  I do not have to always bully myself about what is not perfect about me.  I am allowed to be proud of who I am today completely apart from who I am striving to be tomorrow.

No, I did not wake up at my strict standard 5 a.m. for study and prayer.  I have not done so in too many days to count.  I ate a few cookies.  I ran slow.  I started school late.  I made peanut butter and jelly for lunch.  I wore sweats all day.  I didn’t finish my filing.  I did not fulfill my goals or check many boxes off my all important to do list.

Still, “Good job,” I thought.  I’m doing pretty good.

The thought so foreign to my ever antagonizing inner dialogue seemed strange.  I almost did not believe myself.  But, yes, it was true.  I actually meant it.  I genuinely felt accomplished and content despite what did not get done perfectly.  Could it be?  Have I grown or have I grown lazy?  Before the browbeating antagonist takes over once again, let me say with confidence I believe it is the former.

I got up.  I fed my baby from my own body at least twelve times today.  I spoke to God between shower and school time.  I exercised.  I shared stories, subtraction, and swimming with my children.  I said, “I love you,” and “I’m sorry.”  I looked in my newborn’s eyes and watched some of her very first smiles.  Five years ago this all felt far more like failing.  I am not failing.  I am focusing on God through my freedom saved up for a season such as this.

For the first time in my life I feel flexible rather than forced.  It is not that I don’t want to be better.  It is not that I don’t need to be better.  Always.  I will always be goal-oriented with a side of go-getting.  That’s just the girl God made me.  I don’t even think I can help it.  So, no, it’s  not a matter of lowering standards.  I have simply written myself a permission slip that says I will accept my own limitations and be kind to me as I work ever so slowly toward my ultimate goals.

Because wishing for a free moment to read my Bible is far better than reading it for an hour while wishing I didn’t have to.  A slow run is better than no run.  Better late than never.  Imperfections are part of being made perfect.

Sometimes focusing on God means sacrificing.  Other times it means imbibing.  Extremists like me have trouble recognizing that it is both/and not either/or.  So, from one faith finder to another, by all means, find God in fasting.  But find him also in filling up.  Figure out which season you are in and be free, fearless, and faithful.  Because both are pleasing to God as long as our focus is on finding him.

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I’m not sure when it happened.  I guess it was probably around the time pampering parents started placing pointed fingers at professors for their children’s poor grades and convicts started pleading insanity to excuse their criminal activities.  Somehow, somewhere between big government and little man lawyers, our culture turned onto a continuous road to perdition.  In the here and now, unrelated people police one another out of sheer fear that they will be held responsible for your poor choices.

A few weeks ago I signed up for a triathlon.  On my application, I requested an end swim lane, noting that I am pregnant and needed to use the ladder instead of pulling myself up and climbing out of the pool.  I was met with a phone call asking for a doctor’s permission slip.  “I signed a waiver.  Aren’t I responsible for myself if something happens to me?”  “You’re pregnant.”

I am.  I confess.  I am five and a half months pregnant.  I am also a ten year veteran triathlete.  I’ve been pregnant four times now.  And, yes, I’ll even admit I am a bit of a risk taker.  I don’t recommend triathlons to pregnant women who have not practiced a high level of fitness before pregnancy or have risks associated with childbearing.  I do have a keen sense about what’s going on with myself physically, though, and I can assure anyone who doubts my dire concern for my unborn child (when did we stop calling unborn children “babies” by the way?) that if any issue before, during, or after this endeavor would arise, I would know well enough to stop and rest – or, if need be, quit altogether.

So, to the, “You’re pregnant.” comment, I simply replied, “I know.  I’m pregnant, not dead.  I don’t have a disease, but I bet others participating do.  Are they being screened, too?  Is everyone getting a wellness check requiring a permission slip or is it just me?”

I understand the issue.  Really, I do.  I’m not trying to be disrespectful or difficult, but when common sense goes out the window, I cannot stay silent.  No one wants to get sued by a disgruntled pregnant lady who should have been on the couch instead of exercising for two hours.  But the truth is, right or wrong, that’s her prerogative.  The outcome is, last time I checked, still her responsibility.  Not her doctor’s.  Not her friend’s.  And certainly not the triathlon police’s.

At what point in this country did it become my neighbor’s job to determine whether or not my dog should be tied outside?  My kids are old enough to be left alone?  My family can go on vacation for a week and be out of school?   My firearm can be taken into the coffee shop?  My state’s vintage flag can be flown in my yard?  My child needs a vaccine?  Since when is it your job to tell me what’s best for me and my family without knowing us and, in turn, make laws, rules, and stipulations forbidding our freedom to choose what we deem best for ourselves?

It’s all absurd if you ask me.  Our culture is one where my 11 year old can get an IUD placed without my permission or knowledge but cannot stay home alone for fear of a neighbor calling Children and Youth Services.  We have slid down a schizophrenic slope running on fear, tyranny, and selfish self-preservation.  We used to have a country grounded in courage, freedom, and preserving the pursuit of happiness at all costs.

After some discussion on the matter, I was allowed to participate in the race.  All is well is Loriland again.  And I, uneventfully, finished.

Unfortunately, this policing our neighbors norm is the world we live in.  It is a world where indecent people abdicate personal responsibility and leaders fear for their livelihood because of a corrupt legal system who encourages and rewards the indecent and irresponsible to be just that.  The corruption coupled with the culture of entitlement are virtually ubiquitous.

The solution?  You and me.  Take responsibility for yourself.  Don’t blame others when things go wrong.  Raise your kids with only three goals – reading, respect, and responsibility.  Like the saying goes, “Good people are everywhere.  If you cant’ find one, be one.”

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To Whom It May Concern:

In May of 1997, I got married.  Most of you know I was married to my husband in June of 2000, but, well, this was my first marriage.  I didn’t tell a lot of people at first because I felt a little shy about it and I wasn’t sure how people would take the news.  I was only 17, after all, and it wasn’t exactly a “normal” marriage.

Nevertheless, I was completely smitten.  He was a man I’d known all my life.  From the time I was a little girl, I’d stare at his picture and marvel at him in wonder.  I wondered how all the good things I’d heard of him could really be true.

Somehow, I believed that they were.

As I grew older we shared many conversations.  I studied him intensely and often looked to him for help and advice.  When I told others about him, sometimes they laughed at me.  They told me his advice was wrong.  They warned me not to get too close to him if I wanted to be happy.  It seemed that no one quite understood how I really felt about this man.

Many people I knew did respect him, though.  They told me he was good and that I should keep talking to him.  They said I should listen to him.  I felt very attracted to him, but I was often scared to do the things he asked of me.

Finally, the day came for us to marry.  I didn’t even know he was going to ask!  I was so surprised when he knelt down and asked me to be his own.  I stood alone as a room full of my teenage peers watched while  tears streamed down my astonished face.

I was whisked away by a friend’s mother and we sat and talked of him for a long while.  I told her how I’d accepted his proposal.  I told her all about why I’d said, “Yes.” I told her how much I loved him and how happy I was to be his bride.

My first love was Jesus Christ.  I have been part of his bride for more than 18 years.  I still love him most.

It seems, however, that our marriage is not recognized in many places anymore.  No one seems to respect our relationship.  I mean, I just want to be allowed to keep loving this one who chose me and whom I chose – for life, for death, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness, and in health.  But when I go out in public and speak of him, people get angry.  When I talk about what he forbids me to approve of and celebrate and how I, as his adoring bride must submit out of love, they curse me and call me names.  They say I’m hateful and intolerant.  They even threaten our house and all my brothers and sisters.  They say they will force us to approve of their sin in our own home – that is, the church.  Of course we will not, but it all is just so confusing to me.  I mean, aren’t these the same people who speak all out all the time about “tolerance,” “discrimination,” and being free to choose whomever it is you’d like to love?  But they hate me for the one I choose to love and obey.  Why?

Because my Lord does not agree with them.  His commands conflict with their choices.  Even though we do not agree with them either, we still love them.  We don’t call them names.  We pray for them.  It is because we love them that we tell them the truth.

These ones do not have to agree with me or my Lord, (although I wish they would!) but how can they justify their bigotry towards me in efforts to claim their own?  Who goes on a crusade against hate, intolerance, and discrimination by bringing hate, intolerance, and discrimination?  The double standards of this group are altogether overwhelming.

If they do not recognize my union, that is fine.  If they do not approve, that is fine, too.  But I will not approve of or recognize them at the expense of my own holy matrimony.  To do so would cause my divorce.  How can I divorce my love in exchange for mandated bondage by those who hate him?  I cannot.  I will not.  He never forces me into submission like this group intends for me.  He merely offers his sacrificial life and his true freedom to me.  I’d be a fool to exchange his truth to fit in with them and the lies the Enemy has deceived them with.

The world may not recognize our marriage now, but when its time for our immaculate reception, they will all bow in deference to my King.  My only prayer is that they would come to him before the day of salvation is over and that hour is passed.

I just thought you all should know about my forbidden love story so you could be praying for me and the rest of His bride.  I fear the days to come will prove difficult and many will seek to destroy our marriage.  Let us pray.

Yours Truly,

A little girl who loves Jesus

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In a low valley somewhere between the “Lord show mercies” and the “God please forgive me’s,” my threadbare faith became.  It became not better or worse, rather, it became what it was always meant to be.  So necessary that I could not loosen my white knuckle grip upon his pierced feet; so constant that I could not live without prayer for even one single moment.  It did not become more or less real; for it always was so.  It simply became.  No longer full of doubt; no longer man-dependent;  no longer heartless knowledge;  no longer duty driven.  No.  In that dark valley, somewhere between the “Lord show mercy’s” and the “God please forgive me’s,” my threadbare faith became a brazen blanket bleeding brand new hope.  

Change is no longer forever tomorrow’s promise used to pacify my conscience.  On the contrary, it is now a certainty grounded by the felt gratitude towards the one who did indeed have mercy and forgive me.  It’s assurance is fortified by the bitter residue left by its ugly predecessors – failure, shame, and pain.  

The scars left when one chooses to do things “the hard way” are not easily forgotten.  No.  But they do serve their purpose.  Never again will the little girl touch the stove to see if it really is hot.  Never again will she drag her soft finger along the edge of a razor blade to prove whether or not it really is sharp.  She has undoubtedly proven herself wrong.  She has unwittingly made herself an utter fool.  She holds hands with humiliation as she wakes and as she lies down.  That girl is forever changed.  She knows what she has done.  She has surely learned her lesson well.

Brokenness is her advantage; grief her teacher.  The only place she has left to go is the only place she has ever needed to be – the arms of her savior.  And after all, she is safe.  She is new, and no matter what happens from here, she trusts him.  She knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that her very life is in his hands – for better; for worse, for richer; for poorer, in sickness; in health, in joy; in sorrow, and death will never part them.  

When she thinks about how he sought her, she marvels.  She cannot doubt his great love for her.  From the “I love Jesus” cardboard sign in her childhood bedroom to the “God is love” Sunday school project which hung in her Pappy’s kitchen.  From the countless sermons she had the privilege to hear to the overwhelming provision of proper people in her life.  From his consistency to his constancy to his forgiveness.  She stands amazed.  Though she still asks her portion daily, she trusts fully in his great mercy.  She knows just who she is in him despite her failures.  She knows he has done everything necessary for her salvation.   She is free.  

Regret, accusation, guilt, and self-inflicted condemnation may try to break in upon her at times but, as with the wild wind and roaring waves, his love quiets them all with a mere word.  

To her surprise, it was not her perfection, but her imperfection and subsequent repentance covered by his perfection that eradicated her doubts.  It was not her obedience, but her willful disobedience covered by his perfect obedience that consumed her fears.  She understands what she could not comprehend before – brokenness is the prerequisite of reconciliation.  Yes, reconciliation, by very nature, has a prerequisite of brokenness.  One does not seek to fix what they believe is intact.  That burn was necessary to prove her broken.  That cut was imperative to reveal her need.  

But the end of a matter is better than it’s beginning, and patience is better than pride.  (Ecclesiastes 7:8)

Her conclusion?  She must wait.  We are called to absorb often a great amount of pain in exchange for true and lasting change within ourselves and others.  Jesus did as much and was guiltless.  How much more we who are guilty!

As she writes on the very last page of her ragged should-have-been-finished-months-ago-but-she-got-detoured-by-sin notebook, she knows that this is not the end for her.  The gospel works.  She is covered by grace.  She lives by faith.  She trusts in God.  She waits in hope.  She is living proof that even the least of these – those with absolutely no claim and nothing to bring – can be redeemed.  Dare I say, they are the only ones who ever were.  

I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord
    in the land of the living!
 Wait for the Lord;
    be strong, and let your heart take courage;
    wait for the Lord! ~Psalm 27:13-14




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In the latter part of Galatians 5, Paul is beginning to close in on the practical realities of the case he has just made against legalism.  Interestingly, in his insistence upon freedom and liberty in Christ, he simultaneously shuns lasciviousness.  Doubtless, the reason is grounded in the fact that there is great potential for men to err on either side of this coin.  His practical application can be deduced to three main objectives: his call, his warning, and his command.

You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another humbly in love. 14 For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.”15 If you bite and devour each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other. ~Galatians 5:13-15

The call: For you were called to freedom, brothers.

The warning: Do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh.

The command: Through love, serve one another.

Paul argues that the whole law rests upon love for one another.  The whole law rests upon what?  Love.  

It seems that there are primarily two errors Christians are seriously apt to fall into concerning the law.  One is being a condescending legalist who guilts himself and others into man-made standards of self-righteousness.  The other is being an arrogant law-dismisser who drags himself and others into areas of temptation, sin, and carelessness in the name of Christian liberty.  Neither is lawful.  Neither is godly.  Neither is other-centered.  Neither is love-oriented.  Both are rooted in pride and personal preference rather than humility and God preference.   And, if we are honest, we have to admit we have all been one or the other or both at the same time depending on what kind of sin we’re entertaining.  

The law of grace does not rest upon rules.  The law of grace does not rest upon recreation.  The law of grace rests upon love.

When we love our neighbor, we will not burden him with undue laws and personal preferences.  When we love our neighbor, we will not violate him by living offensive, worldly lives, disregarding conscience, or abusing grace either.  When we love our neighbor, we will not compare his miserable excuse for law-keeping with our miserable excuse for law-keeping and start swinging at his knees to cover our own failures.  Instead, we will admit where we are weak, encourage him where he is weak, and refrain from exercising any freedom that instigates temptation in ourselves or he.  

Why?  Because love doesn’t bite.  Love lays down.  When the master is in the house, biting is not an option.  Surrender to his call, his warning, and his command must be our only objective.  

The whole law rests upon love.  This is the remedy and protection of the church against false teachers.   

“The liberty we enjoy as Christians is not a licentious liberty: though Christ had redeemed us from the curse of the law, yet he has not freed us from the obligation of it; the gospel is a doctrine according to *godliness* and is so far from giving the least countenance to sin that it lays us under the strongest obligations to avoid and subdue it.” -Matthew Henry


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In making his case for faith, Paul offers what he calls a “human example.”  He wants this idea to be plain enough for every person in the Galatian church to understand.  His premise is to explain the very nature of a covenant and show the Galatians how Christ alone is the author and perfecter of our faith – not ourselves or our own works.  

To give a human example, brothers: even with a man-made covenant, no one annuls it or adds to it once it has been ratified. 16 Now the promises were made to Abraham and to his offspring. It does not say, “And to offsprings,” referring to many, but referring to one, “And to your offspring,” who is Christ. 17 This is what I mean: the law, which came 430 years afterward, does not annul a covenant previously ratified by God, so as to make the promise void. 18 For if the inheritance comes by the law, it no longer comes by promise; but God gave it to Abraham by a promise. ~Galatians 3:15-18

Paul reasons: A covenant is a promise between two parties.  No one can add conditions after the deal has been sealed.  The terms cannot be changed once they are agreed upon.  With that in mind, consider the promise God made Abraham.  It came 430 years prior to the law.  Therefore, the law has no bearing on the promise whatsoever.  It does not change the conditions in the least – for it cannot!  The question then becomes not about who keeps the law, but about to whom the promise was actually made.  

Now the promises were made to Abraham and to his offspring. It does not say, “And to offsprings,” referring to many, but referring to one, “And to your offspring,” who is Christ. ~Galatians 3:16

The promise was made to Abraham and his offspring, singular, as Paul emphasizes.  This is the true, unique seed of Abraham who is Christ.  Therefore, the promise was made not only to the physical children of Abraham (aka the nation of Israel) but to the unique spiritual children of Abraham (the spiritual seed.)  Christ was the promise and faith in him is the condition of the reward: eternal salvation.  Therefore, Paul reasons, the promise is not for all bloodline or orthodox Jews, but for all Christians, which certainly includes bloodline Jews but is not at all limited to them (Galatians 3:29.) 

****(Consider what Jesus says in John 8:31-59.  The unbelieving Jews contended that they were indeed the children of Abraham.  Jesus told them he knew they were Abraham’s offspring (John 8;37), but that they were not his children.  (John 8:39)  He called them the children of the devil, rather, because of their evil works and refusal to believe in him.  Those who were the true physical seed of Abraham were disowned by Christ himself because of their unbelief!  But, here, in Galatians, the Gentiles who believed God were accepted as rightful heirs!  This is mind blowing.

The idea of Abraham’s four seeds in helpful in clarifying this conundrum.  

Seed #1: The physical children who may or may not be spiritual heirs but who were all physically descended from Abraham.

Seed #2: The special physical children who came after Issac, also known as the children of the promise, who may or may not be spiritual heirs.

Seed #3:  Christ – the true seed who fulfilled both the physical genealogical aspect being descended from Abraham’s line as well as the ultimate spiritual anti-type.

Seed #4: The spiritual children who are all in Christ but who may or may not be physical descendants of Abraham.)****

The law came after this promise.  It does not change the condition which is faith alone in Christ alone.  Why, then, did it come?

Why then the law? It was added because of transgressions, until the offspring should come to whom the promise had been made, and it was put in place through angels by an intermediary. ~Galatians 3:19

The law cannot save.  Paul calls it a “guardian” or a “schoolmaster.” It only serves to show us our sin.  It’s function is to make men aware of the severity of their sin and recognize their desperate need of Christ.  Unfortunately, men placed faith in their flawed attempts to keep the law and made it an end in itself.  In so doing, they not only missed out on the promise, they missed the very promise himself.  They condemned the promise in condemning Christ.  We continue to do so today when we rely on the law in place of the Savior.  Paul says we are under a curse if we do so.  (Galatians 3:10)

However, the law and promise are not at odds.  The law is our guardian until we come to Christ – a guardian which we, as lovers of the Lawmaker, no longer need in order to motivate obedience.  It is utter foolishness to marry a police officer when you hate the law.  No one does that.  Neither can one be part of Christ’s bride and simultaneously hate his perfect law.   No.  We obey because we love, not because we fear the punishment of an unappreciated guardian.  We are not slaves of the law!  Neither are we any longer slaves to sin!  We are sons of God who long to obey him!  (Galatians 4:7)

Our motive for obedience is often the differentiating factor regarding
true or false faith.  The false brothers in Galatia loved the law.  The Christians in Galatia loved the Lawmaker.

Do you love the Lawmaker or do you love the law?  That may indeed be the only difference between freedom and slavery.




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