FREE AT LAST
It was a random weekday when some of my friends and the campus ministers gathered in a room at the Student Union. At the time, the weight of my decision to major in biology—despite being terrible at math and science—sat on my chest like a pile of cement. I felt crushed under the dread of never being quite Christian enough, never believing in God enough to love myself—or Him—in a way that actually mattered.
During Bible study, focus slipped through my hands like running water. My thoughts swarmed—sometimes cornering me, but mostly leaving me detached, isolated from the people around me, and from the God who loved me. By the end, I lingered near the door, waiting for a friend to finish a conversation before we walked to my car. That’s when my eyes met a campus minister’s from across the room. One hand cradled her chubby-cheeked son; the other gently motioned for me to come over.
She let out a deep breath—and I let one out too, like I’d been waiting for permission to breathe.
Pulling me close, she said plainly:
“I don’t want to scare you, but as we were praying, I had a vision of you sitting at a table. A pterodactyl-looking demon was behind your head, and every time you tried to lift it, he would slam your head back down.”
I blinked, unsure how to respond.
“Well…” I said slowly, “Do you need to cast it out of me or something? Should we pray right now?”
She shook her head gently.
“You can pray for yourself. There isn’t a song and dance you have to do.”
I was almost relieved when she told me what she saw. It meant I wasn’t crazy. It meant there was something—other than me—bullying me. But that relief quickly morphed into a paralyzing fear. What do you mean, pray for myself?
I was used to my mom praying for me. And my dad and grandmothers interceding for me. But me? My teeny, weeny prayers against some pterodactyl-looking demon? Somebody else needed to do it. Somebody with more authority. Someone God knew—and who really knew Him.
Years have passed since then. New pain and new joys have filled my life. And then, in a recent conversation with my mom, she suddenly erupted:
“You need to get delivered from some things.”
Immediately, I thought, Is my mama calling me bound? Does she think I’m in chains? The nerve.
But curiosity got the best of me, so I asked, From what?
Within moments, my phone buzzed again—her reply flashing across the screen:
“Anxiety, fear, wrong thinking about yourself.”
Pride could have been added to that list, maybe even shame. Even though she was my mom, it was embarrassing that she could see me, something I hated about myself. Something that has been with me so long that I am confused about where it ends and I begin.
Now, I’m here, a few hours after receiving prayer at church, a new voice echoing an old promise from God:
Freedom, freedom, freedom.
“So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.” john 8:36 [niv]
If I’m honest, I don’t really know who I’d be without the influence of fear. I couldn’t tell you if I’m agreeable by nature or just afraid of what confrontation might bring. Am I truly low-maintenance, or simply afraid of being too much? Am I long-suffering, or just too scared to stand up for myself?
The questions go on and on.
Interactions and conversations replay in my mind on a loop—each one examined, plucked apart, and picked over until I’m convinced that nothing I do, no matter how hard I try or perform, will ever be good enough—for myself, for people, or for God.
And yet, even thinking that makes me feel like the fool that gets brought up every other chapter in Proverbs—because I know the truth.
Romans 5:8 reminds me that God’s love and acceptance have already been proven: “But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”
And in 1 John 4:18, I’m told there is no fear in love. No punishment, no disappointment. Just Him—admonishing and championing me to walk toward Him, because He is the safest place I could ever be.
But, still, I stand firm-footed on the outside of His presence, convinced that if I fully stand on what He has said, it somehow won’t apply to me.
“he is the maker of heaven and earth, the sea, and everything in them—he remains faithful forever” psalms 146:6 [niv]
In Matthew 8:28-34 and Luke 8:26-37, we witness Jesus casting demons out of two demon-possessed men into a herd of pigs.
Matthew 8:29-32 “And they cried out, saying, What business do You have with us, Son of God? Have you come here to torment us before time?”
What do we learn about the importance of knowing your identity?
We know what to ask for. These demons know who they are and that they will be destroyed at a specific time. We as believers are supposed to know we are co-heirs with Christ, sealed with the Holy Spirit, and rooted and established in love. How has your lack of knowledge about your identity hindered what you have been asking God for?
We know how to approach God. These demons are literally crying and begging for Jesus to have mercy on them. Displaying knowledge of their lack of freedom and Jesus’ total control over them. How has your lack of knowledge about your identity kept you from approaching God about the things He has promised?
“Now there was a herd of many pigs feeding at a distance from them. And the demons begged Him, saying, ‘If you are going to cast us out, send us into the herd of pigs. ’ And He said to them, ‘Go!’ And they came out and went into the pigs..”
What do we learn?
If even the enemies of God can ask something of Him and He grants it, how much more will He respond to the voices of His friends? How much more will He desire to fulfill His promises to us—those who love Him, follow Him, and are called His own?
“and i pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power together with all the lord’s holy people, to grasp how wife and and high and deep is the love of christ.” ephesians 3:17-18 [niv]
I guess I’m saying all this to remind myself and maybe you too that fear doesn’t have to be a part of who we are; Jesus has made it so that you and I have a choice. Overthinking and anxiety are not part of the inheritance package as a believer. Those are old things—dead things, defeated things—that have no place and no room in the children of God. They are things that can be silenced through the power of the Holy Spirit. They are things we have the authority to cast down in the name of Jesus. Freedom is available. Love is available. True and unshakeable identity is available.
Now, I know it gets crowded internally. We collect so many things, so many ideas about who we are and how much we matter to God. And yet, He’s told us—over and over again—how loved, chosen, and secure we are in Him. He tells us how unfailing His love is and how mindful He is of us. We learn from scripture the intentionality and specificity that went into our creation. He didn’t make a mistake with you. He didn’t make a mistake with me.
So what will it take for you to believe it?
Shoot... what will it take for me to believe it?
It always sounds good when I write it down—just not as good when I try to live it out.
But maybe today, we let God do a new thing.
A free thing. In you and in me.
