Jail Break

Breaking Out of Your Personal Prison

      I sat in despair, staring blankly at the locked door.  It had been years since I had opened the door, for it locked in my secret terrors.  Long ago, in the beginning, I tried to maintain social contacts.  Back then I would occasionally venture out after pulling the shades and locking the door behind me.   Outside the locked door, though, I was continually stalked by fear.  Someone, anyone, might peek through a crack in the fortified walls and see what I was hiding.  Worse yet, someone might break in and release my secret  incubus!  So, I sat there behind my fortified walls, bolted door and secured windows.  I was alone in the dark guarding the unknown.

     Oh, I spoke to those who passed by - through iron grates that barred my windows.  I had many acquaintances, but no real friends.  I had numerous associations, but no true love.  I was a prisoner of my own heart.  I was hiding and protecting the thing I hated most.  Even as I sat alone in the dark and hovered over my concealed hatchlings, anxiety gnawed at my facade of security:  “Someone knows - maybe everyone!”

     My continual brooding nurtured the terrors I wished to hide.  My fear fed them and they grew stronger and threatened me, their screaming cries filling my fortress.  I feared that their shrieks might be heard outside, so I tried to drown them out with loud denunciations of those who came close to my walls.  I panicked that they might break out by their violent thrashings so I reinforced the walls with strong prejudices and potent bitterness.  I carefully covered the walls with a thin veneer of self-righteousness, though, for appearance sake.  Yes, at this point, appearance was everything!

     Then one day the hidden horrors turned on me.  The very things I had conceived and nurtured were trying to devour me.  I beat them back with the club called Ego.  I stabbed them with the sword named Self.  They refused to die.  Each time I slashed one into pieces every shred roared back to life feeding on my soul, growing with terrifying power.  I had but one hope - to open the door.

      I crawled to the door, grasping the handle and straining, but it defied movement.  The latch was frozen and the hinges were rusted.  There was no escape.  I slumped to the floor and sobbed: “God:  I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I’m helpless.  Help me!”

      The words had scarce left my lips when a gentle voice called from just outside:  “Unlock the door.  Turn the knob.”

      “You don’t know what you are asking,”  I screamed back.  “Someone will see.  Someone will know!”

       “I already see.  I have always known.”  His reply was gentle but powerful.  “The choice is yours.  The knob is on your side.”

       With a trembling hand I dropped the bolt, removed the lock, and turned the knob.  With a painful groan the door swung in.  The gentle-powerful stranger stood in the doorway.  Light streamed through the opening with the blazing brightness I had not seen in years.  It stung my eyes and burned my mind, but the most pain came from the sight it revealed.  From the years of confinement I was shriveled.  I was filthy.  I was weak.  In the light, I realized that I had hidden nothing from anyone but myself.

       The hidden terrors of my darkness attacked the rescuer in the doorway ripping at his hands and snapping at his heels.  Then the fatal blow was struck, piercing his side and slashing through his heart.  The blood and water flowed from the wound and covered my rotting flesh.  As He drew his dying breath, a sword flashed forth from His mouth and slew the monsters of my making.  With the touch of his Sword they vanished, annihilated, never to return.

       But then my most vivid nightmare became reality.  The Rescuer turned his sword on me.  Love streamed from his eyes with tears as he cut through the fortifications of my heart.  He sliced through my callousness.  He laid bare my self-righteousness.  Then he fell in death and shattered the walls of my concealment.  I was out in the open with no fortress to hide me.  But, what I felt was freedom not exposure.

       I was no longer a prisoner.  I was no longer alone.  A loving hand grasped mine and raised me to my feet.  As I looked into the eyes of the one who came alongside me I noticed a strong family resemblance to the Rescuer.  He let me lean on Him as I took my first faltering steps.  He told me of his own escape and the community of love he now lived in. We walked together - friends, brothers - the first person I had touched in years.

       “Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline; be zealous therefore, and repent.  Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him, and will dine with him, and he with Me.”  Jesus, Revelation 3:19-20.