On the night of November 9th, 2018, my bridesmaids and I were gathered in a small upstairs room, laughing and talking, surrounded by half-eaten bowls of popcorn, squashy pillows, and bright piles of wrapping paper from just-opened gifts. As I looked around the room, it felt surreal to be surrounded by the same circle of women who had surrounded me at my first wedding years before, and who continued to support me through the pain of the years to come.

It was the night before my wedding again, but this time felt different. Sacred. Within me, I carried a pervasive peace and deep-rooted joy that I’d never known was possible. God had brought me through the dark valley of weeping, and now was the time for celebration. To end the night, my sister invited our group to encircle me and place their hands on me for a time of prayer. As I closed my eyes and my friend began to pray, this image entered my mind:

I am standing on the top of a high green hill, looking out over a lush and verdant valley. There are rolling hills in the distance, and the land is covered in a quilt of bright sunlight and passing shadows. I have the feeling that I am on the threshold of a new beginning, a grand adventure. A golden skeleton key is placed in my hands, and the phrase “Keys to the Kingdom” echoes in my mind.

I opened my eyes, filled with gratitude and the sense that God was inviting me and Drew into expansive pastures of freedom and exploration as we began our new life together. I felt no fear of the future—only hope.

* * *

It has been two years, five months, and twenty two days since that image was given to me in prayer, and at times I wonder:

Am I walking in the freedom and abundance I’ve been given? If not, why?

Jesus has opened the gate and said “Go, be free! Frolic and play!” but so often I turn my back to face the fence and keep munching the grass right beneath me, more content with the idea of freedom than actually living in it.

In his letter to the church in Galatia, Paul reminds his audience of something that at first glance, seems like an obvious principle:

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free, so do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.

(Galatians 5:1)

No one wants to be a slave. So why did Paul find it necessary to remind his readers not to let themselves become burdened and enslaved? Because they were allowing the kingdom of this world and the rules of religion to pull them back into a more convenient bondage. Safe and familiar, but not free.

How often do we do the same—exchanging the challenge of freedom for the comfort of familiarity?

Here’s the thing. Walking in the freedom God has given us requires that we actually walk—venturing out to explore the heights and depths of the kingdom He is bringing to earth, as it is in heaven.

The good news is that we do not walk alone—we follow in the footsteps of Jesus, even as he walks beside us. Mercifully, Jesus has compassion on our human condition; he knows our weaknesses and loves us. He is patient with our stumbling and rejoices in our trusting him. And the message he gave to his followers is the same for us today:

Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and he will give you everything you need. So don’t be afraid, little flock. For it gives your Father great happiness to give you the Kingdom.

(Luke 12:30-31)

Given all these promises of God caring for our every need, what keeps us from walking in the abundant life that Jesus offers?

Fear.

But what are we afraid of?

The answer differs for each of us, depending on the various ways fear has shaped us to shrink back and mistrust the unknown. For me, the answer is “I am afraid the Father is not actually good—that God isn’t all he said he would be, that he won’t catch me when I fall, and that he’ll leave me hanging. That when I need him most, he’ll abandon me.”

I wonder if sometimes we are even afraid to admit we are afraid, because fear looks like a lack of trust. So we keep our fear to ourselves, thinking we can handle it on our own, as the fence around our small plot of over-grazed grass grows a little higher and staying put looks more and more appealing.  

It is fear that keeps us in bondage.

We fear the unknown, we fear being alone, and at times we may even fear the lavishness of God’s love and abundance.

But you know what? God does not respond to our fear with blame, shame, or exasperated sighs of disappointment.

Instead, He responds with Love.

See how very much our Father loves us, for he calls us his children, and that is what we are! 

(1 John 3:1)

It is Love, and Love alone, that enables us to leave our prisons of fear and venture out into the abundant life that Jesus offers.

It is with Love that Jesus tells his followers, “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it gives your Father great happiness to give you the kingdom.” Knowing and trusting we are loved is the only thing that can silence the voice of fear.

Fear is a prison, but Love is the key.

Such love has no fear, because perfect love expels all fear. If we are afraid, it is for fear of punishment, and this shows that we have not fully experienced his perfect love.

(1 John 4:18)

“Fear not,” Jesus tells us.

Why?

Because Love has given us everything we need. Love has given us the keys to the Kingdom.

* * * 

On the final day of our honeymoon in the UK, Drew and I found ourselves at a village market in Kent. In search of last-minute keepsakes, I was perusing a table of vintage jewelry and books when a small blue volume caught my eye. Smiling, I picked it up and showed it to Drew. Several hours later, we flew home with that little blue book tucked away in our luggage.

Its title?

The Keys to the Kingdom.