Chains

I love how God chooses to speak to us. Sometimes He uses a trusted friend, sometimes it is through His word, sometimes it is through a book, sometimes through a song. God spoke to me in all of those methods this week reiterating one image, one theme: Chains.

The first chapter of Out of Control and Loving It starts with the following passage from Isaiah 52:

Awake, awake,
Clothe yourself in your strength, O Zion;
Clothe yourself in your beautiful garments,
O Jerusalem, the holy city;
For the uncircumcised and the unclean
Will no longer come into you.
Shake yourself from the dust, rise up,
O captive Jerusalem;
Loose yourself from the chains around your neck,
O captive daughter of Zion.

When I first began reading this book and truly began my journey through loss of control, this image didn't strike me as very powerful. The author spent two chapters dissecting this precious woman Zion who was in chains, and it was interesting but didn't grip me. Yet this week, amidst other conversations these verses keep rising to my mind. I feel absolutely captive by my fear at times, frozen and terrified to act. I feel violated by the anxiety that has decided to take up residence in my heart. I feel chained to my anxious thoughts, unable to shake them off. I can absolutely relate to the captive daughter of Zion.

I've recently been hearing the same song repeat on KLOVE, no matter what time of day I'm in the car. I love the song "East to West" by Casting Crowns, but I've loved it for reasons different than the lyrics echoing in my soul this week. This week I've been caught up in the first verse:

Here I am, Lord, and I'm drowning in your sea of forgetfulness
The chains of yesterday surround me
I yearn for peace and rest

I love the lines that follow the chains, I yearn for peace and rest. I think those are two qualities I want more than anything right now. Those two words are promised to us by God: "Come those who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest." I just want to cease striving against the chains, and yet I fight with everything I have to break free of them.

Look back at the image of Zion. God calls her to loose the chains from her neck; the power is in her hands to be freed. But it seems that she's been going about it in the wrong way. He calls her to awake, arise, clothe herself in strength and beauty, to shake off the dust. I don't think this is how we normally go about trying to break free. Think about it, we fight, we strive, we claw, we run, but at no time did we think beauty would set us free. The qualities God asks of Zion are calling us back to who He created us to be: alive, powerful, strong, beautiful, listening to the sound of His voice.

This is one of the many situations where our concept of how to fix is so vastly different from His. When our enemy approaches, we turn the other cheek. When we see our enemy hungry, we are to feed him. When we want to be exalted, we must be humbled. God's idea of how to fix is never what we imagine or intend, but it does draw us back to Him. Maybe His ideas of how to fix me aren't orthodox in my eyes, but I think we both want the same end result: freedom.

I want to be free of the chains. I want that more than anything. I want to sing the chorus of "Amazing Grace (My chains are gone)":

My chains are gone
I've been set free
My God, my Savior has ransomed me
And like a flood His mercy reigns
Unending love, Amazing grace

And the chorus of "Undone":

To the cross I run
Holding high my chains undone
Now I am finally free
Free to be what I've become
Undone

I aspire to be free of my chains, to arise and awaken. I want these images painted in these last two songs to be more powerful than the images of my chains. I long to be undone. And maybe it's time to stop trying to fight my way and instead look at the unorthodox ways God calls me to. I'm not yet sure what that looks like, but I hope I eventually get to look like a beautiful daughter of Zion, no longer captive by my chains.