Not many childhood memories have carried as much significance throughout my life as those of my dad's listening to music in his home office. My bedroom was directly above the office, and many nights I would lie awake and absorb the Christian music that filtered up through my vent. Two songs in particular remain present and powerful in my mind: Steve Camp's "Unfailing Love" and Steven Curtis Chapman's "Remember Your Chains." Though both artists certainly suffered from an 80's influence, their lyrics have permanently threaded themselves into my beliefs.
"Remember Your Chains" tells the story of a prisoner condemned to a life of confinement in his sin. He looks out the window of his cell, resigned to his eternal captivity. But hope rises with the melody as God's gracious love breaks the prisoner's chains and releases him to a freedom which until now he has not known. Throughout the song, Chapman demands that his listeners "remember [their] chains; remember the prison that once held [them] before the love of God broke through." For me to appreciate the freedom I've received, I must understand the place from which I've been freed. My sin once choked me, rubbed my skin raw, held me hostage. What an ugly image. But this incarceration is where Christ found me and what he destroyed. What a glorious feat. Chapman closes the song with his most profound imperative: "Remember your chains are gone." More important than remembering my past, I need to realize that my past does not control my present or my future.
Steve Camp furthers this theme in "Unfailing Love" with my favorite line: "Help this pardoned rebel just to live in the power of Your unfailing love." That was me. I was the rebel. My only desire, sin; my only future, death. But by a grace that transcends by greatest faults, Christ bent the bars and loosed my chains. I am still a rebel, but God has pardoned me of my treason and granted me a new life of joyful service. This is the banner under which I want to pursue all things. I hated God, yes, and I am broken and undeserving. But Jesus' sacrifice is stronger and wider and greater than anything I could be or fail to be. That is the truth that I want to catalyze my life. I intend to dive into living with a joy that comes from understanding who I am because of what Jesus has done. I desire all I do to be filled with the grace and gentleness of a rebel who has been given a new and full life.
With these truths in mind I conclude with what I wish to be a theme for my future words here: I hope to explore and discover what it means to live like a pardoned rebel in a world that is still rebelling. With God's help, and for His glory, please join me on this journey.
