It Doesn't Belong to You



“It doesn’t belong to you.” 
A simple truth communicated to children whose hands want to grab what their eye deems lovely. Adulthood picks up responsibility and productivity and reputation, but arms too full sometimes let simple truths slip out.
So we lust with our eyes and turn worship inward on self. We view other image-bearers as objects for our own satisfaction. “It doesn’t belong to you.”

Anxiety becomes an unnoticed metronome. We run frantic, either our visible bodies or unseen minds, trying to prove we are worthwhile. 
Worth, all the while, was never meant to be determined by us. We want desperately to be deemed loveable, equating the admiration of others with that core longing. 
Glory belonging only to God appears so lovely that we snatch at it, with our hands, with our whole selves. “It doesn’t belong to you.”

Childlike trust fades and we buy the lie of self-determination. Masters of our own fate, we pretend our backs don’t bend beneath the weight of autonomy. We cast ourselves as cartographers, determining destinations and most desirable routes. Mistaking props for real tools, we believe we see much more of the terrain than we actually can.  
Tragically, we miss the most magnificent drama already unfolding around us. We believe the script is ours to write, our life’s story is only our own. “It doesn’t belong to you.”

In a cosmically beautiful plot twist we would never pen, the innocent one stood in the place of the guilty. With his bruised heel on the head of the enemy, he extends his hand to us, offering us what we could never earn and sparing us from what we actually deserve. 
An identity that will never change, the love and acceptance we crave, and fulfillment in a mission that has already been crafted for us. We’re freed from using others and can enjoy community with brothers and sisters. Rest. Joy. Eternal life with him! He has won it all on our behalf. “Now this belongs to you.”


Photo by Leone Venter on Unsplash

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