Leaving the Storeroom

The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly. — John 10:10

For most of my life, I have believed in God and in Jesus Christ as my savior. I knew I was forgiven through Jesus’s blood, and that I was saved for eternity with Him; but living out the good news – living out the joy and freedom in Christ that I had heard about – always seemed out of reach. I saw it in others, but felt it was beyond my grasp, as if I just couldn’t quite figure out how to “get there.”

As I was pondering this one day, I thought about the word “redeem.” I was fairly certain I knew what it meant, but thought perhaps I had missed something in its definition that would help me. So I searched for the official definition, hoping to find some clue about how freedom and joy come into the picture. The Oxford Languages Dictionary defined redeem as:

1. Compensate for the faults or bad aspects of something.

Example: “a disappointing debate redeemed only by an outstanding speech”

2. Gain or regain possession of something in exchange for payment.

Example: “his best suit had been redeemed from the pawnbrokers.”

My thoughts were basically confirmed; no surprises there!

But it did bring up a mental image, and later a scene, which helped me see what I was missing.

From the second definition, I imagined Jesus entering a small storefront. The inside was dark and dingy, as if it had been neglected for many years. There were no obvious items for sale – only a counter, a cash register, and a very sinister-looking clerk standing behind it.

I went on to imagine Jesus walking up to the clerk and saying, “I’m here to redeem Tina Zimmerman.”

The clerk, Satan himself, scoffs and asks Jesus contemptuously, “what have you got to give for her?”

But then he looks down and sees the wounds in Jesus’ hands and understands he has no choice.

He shrugs, as if he never really cared that much, anyway, and reaches for the swinging door behind him, which led to a storage room of some sort.

He opens it and calls out my name into the darkness. I come to the doorway, look out, and see my redeemer.

For months after first imagining this, the scene ended there. I understood that I was safe for eternity and that He had paid it all for me.

In real life, I had been through recovery for co-dependency, and I achieved many breakthroughs, but many of the issues that I had struggled with for years continued to plague me – fear of man, people-pleasing, and the need for control, to name a few.

Feelings of joy and freedom were fleeting, and always dependent upon my circumstances.

Then, one day as I was scrolling through my usual YouTube feed, I came across a seemingly unrelated video of Christian author and speaker Elisabeth Elliot (now deceased) speaking to an audience on the topic of the will of God. She referenced Matthew 11:29-30 where Jesus said,

“Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

She explained how she imagined that the yoke represented the will of God; that when we put on the yoke, we are putting on His will. Further, we are not in the yoke alone – it is a double yoke, and Jesus is right next to us.

This image made an impression on me. It seemed to make sense, and I found comfort in imagining Jesus was right next to me as I made my way through life.

A few weeks after hearing her speak, my mind drifted back to the image of the storefront. I examined the scene once again; there was Jesus standing at the cash register, Satan behind the counter, and me in the doorway.

For the first time, it hit me. “Wait…why have I not moved from the doorway? Why have I not left this place?

Oh, God”, I thought, “why did I never imagine leaving?”

I slowly realized the answer as I contemplated the storeroom behind me.

I had been its prisoner for a long time – a prisoner to the darkness, confusion, and hopelessness.

It was what I knew.

I believe I just stood there because I didn’t know I had permission to move.

Tears filled my eyes as I realized how often I still thought of myself as a prisoner, even after years of healing. Old patterns, old ways of thinking, old strongholds are hard to tear down – especially when you haven’t known anything else.

But I also knew the truth of God’s word, so I determined to finish the scene rightly.

With what I believe was guidance from Holy Spirit, I imagined myself taking new “steps of faith”.

I leave the doorway and walk over to Jesus. I hold him, and say “Thank you so much”.

He smiles lovingly and leads me out of the store.

Once outside, I look down and see a yoke lying on the ground.

He places it over us, and He smiles again.

His yoke is easy, and I am comforted by it. The sun is shining. It’s bright and warm, and He is with me. I am free, and joy begins to fill my soul.

Before working out this scene in my mind, I knew Jesus had redeemed me from my sins, which were many. I knew He had given me the gift of abundant, eternal life. But I had never completely opened the gift. I didn’t understand it was mine to enjoy as His beloved daughter. I didn’t understand that He was inviting me to come alongside Him in this life, that He actually wanted communion with me, to teach me, guide me, and re-cover all the lost ground that the enemy had stolen. And I believe with all my heart that He wants the same for all of us.

Sometimes my mind and emotions wander back to the old storeroom. I will still operate out of fear sometimes, but I catch myself more often now, and remind myself that I don’t have to live there anymore – that I have permission to leave the darkness. So I turn and run back into my savior’s arms, under his perfect yoke, and into His marvelous light.

Credit: “Desert Path” by Kathleen Robison

FROM THE WORD