All of us also lived among them at one time, gratifying the cravings of our sinful nature and following its desires and thoughts. Like the rest, we were by nature objects of wrath.
-Ephesians 2: 3-4

Every once in awhile, I will have a day that, for whatever reason, is determined to remind me of the darkened depths I used to call home. And while I can confidently move through those days relatively secure, I still sometimes find myself catching a glimpse, not only of the things I've done, but of the way I used to think. This is, at once, severely fascinating, yet altogether disturbing.

Before we were irrevocably altered by the power of undeserved grace, one of the prevailing forces in our lives was the desire for more; more of the things that sought to master us and, ultimately, kill us. Even when the tendrils of despair began to squeeze and the whispers of apathy and resignation played at our ears, we frenetically continued in our pursuit...driving, headlong, into the future that our enemy told us was immutable. Can you remember thinking this way?

All of our hope was entwined in that which we sought. Hope in the promises of others, hope in the power of earthly success and the efficacy of serotonin, hope in the temporary distraction from the great emptiness that silently waited...perched just above our line of sight...waiting for us to finally admit that there is nothing left; nothing but darkness. As our faith in life and each other waned, we became little more than an extension of the will of the adversary, pouring selfishness into the lives of all we touched. Our flesh wanted only for itself; dragging us in tow, through the ruins of decisions made poorly. This would have been our legacy. If only.

Such an earth-shattering moment, to discover the truth of hope. And what a hope it is. This hope is the priceless gem of unmatched brilliance that connects each of us to who we really are...who we were made to be. Yes, it is true that our corporeal nature is to remain beholden to craving, driven by desire and paid in wrath. But, as we have placed our trust and hope in the King of servants, we are released into a freedom we could not have even tried to describe. And, now, you see it…

If you are a believer who still spends more than enough time chained to the memory of what you did, I say yours is a state most unnecessary. You are free. Did you catch that? Free. There are others who need you.

If, even now, you are someone awash in the storm of consequences and sadness, there is one hope that will not fade; one name that can see you safely returned to the shores of your birthright; one whose only desire is to love you more than you have the capacity to return. In him, your hope is well placed. It does not matter how strong your chains are, or how long you've been bound.

Let him remind you of who you actually are.