WHAT WILL WE DO WITH THE FREEDOM WE HAVE BEEN GIVEN?

This Sunday’s sermon brought us back to Galatians, where Paul is pleading with people who have already heard the good news but are being persuaded that faith in Christ needs something added to it. More rules. More requirements. Something else they must do before they can fully belong. Paul reminds them that through Christ they have received adoption as God’s children. They are no longer slaves trying to earn a place in the household. They are sons and daughters, and heirs of the promise.

There is something deeply comforting about that. We can spend so much of our lives trying to prove that we are worthy of being loved, accepted, or included. It can become so familiar that we carry the same thinking into our relationship with God. We begin treating faith like another place where we must perform well enough to be wanted. But Paul points us back to what God has already done. The Father sent His Son to redeem us, and He sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, through whom we cry, “Abba, Father.” We are invited into a relationship with Him, with the confidence of children who belong.

What touched me, too, was how personally Paul cared about these people. He reminded them of the kindness they had shown him when he was ill, of how warmly they had received him, and of the love they had shared. Now he was watching them being drawn away by teachers who wanted their loyalty. His concern went far beyond winning an argument. He wanted Christ to be formed in them. He wanted them to grow, and he cared enough to tell them the truth even when it might cost him their affection. There is a difference between someone who wants us dependent on their approval and someone who wants us to grow in Christ.

Then the sermon turned to a question that stayed with me: What is the hardest part of being free? We tend to think about freedom in terms of having choices, making our own decisions, and doing what we want. But sometimes freedom brings us to a crossroads where we know that the loving choice will ask something of us. It may require time we wanted for ourselves, patience we do not feel, an honest conversation we would rather avoid, or a willingness to help when helping is inconvenient. Having the freedom to choose does not mean every choice will be easy.

In Matthew 26, we see Jesus in Gethsemane, grieving and praying before His arrest. He brought His anguish to the Father and asked whether the cup could pass from Him. He also surrendered His will to the Father. Later, when He was arrested, He said that He could appeal to His Father for legions of angels. He knew that help was available. Yet He chose to fulfill the purpose for which He had come. His obedience was willing, and His love carried Him through a cost we can scarcely comprehend.

That gives me a great deal to think about in my own daily life. I can bring God my reluctance, my weariness, and my honest feelings. Jesus’ prayer in the garden reminds me that obedience does not require pretending something is painless. I can ask for help. I can admit that I wish there were another way. And I can still ask God to guide my choices, rather than letting fear, pride, resentment, or convenience make them for me.

Paul’s words in Galatians 5:1 call us to stand firm in the freedom Christ has given us. We do not have to keep trying to earn our place as God’s children. From that place of belonging, we can learn to love and serve with willing hearts. My prayer this week is that I will recognize the choices in front of me, seek God’s wisdom, and use the freedom He has given me in ways that reflect the One who gave it. 🕊️🌾🇺🇸