Freedom Found

Last night before bed, I was reading through Ecclesiastes and had a sudden urge to jump over to Isaiah. My heart landed on chapter 52 and for the billionth time, my eyes and heart fell upon verses 1 and 2. I even had to spread their beautiful message to a few close friends of mine on Facebook and then decided to spread their beauty here as well.



The big secret behind this blog is that I'm a writer that, at times, masquerades as someone creative or (more often) someone that makes a pretty cute copy of something I've seen in other places. Each time I start to forget my love for words, I read God's Word and remember that my Father is also a poet. I'll prove it :). After speaking of the judgement that will come upon Israel, God uses this image to prophecy of their return to Him.



Awake, awake, O Zion, clothe yourself in strength. Put on your garments of splendor, O Jerusalem the Holy City. The uncircumcised and defiled will not enter you again. Shake off your dust, rise up, sit enthroned, O Jerusalem. Free yourself from the chains around your neck, O Captive Daughter of Zion. Isaiah 52:1-2

The image is this woman. She's dirty, she's lost all hope, the chains around her neck are uncomfortable, and she's been defiled. Yet, here comes a messenger. I imagine she would be curious about him and probably immediately distrust him thinking he was the same as her oppressors. Yet, here he comes with Good News and a message of hope and strength. He tells her to wake up! He tells her to clothe herself in strength and gives her the promise that her slavery is over and will not happen again. I also imagine pauses between his next commands, waiting for her to fully comprehend each. He gives her the power needed to break that chain she's been trying to find a way out of for who knows how long and calls her Daughter of Zion. Child of God. A heavenly princess and heir in her own right because of her holy heritage.

Each time I read this, images of women I've come across whether in person or through media fly through my head. I see girls sitting in college classrooms or celebrities on the cover of tabloids. Mothers in grocery stores with longer lists than their wallets can afford. I see little girls wanting to know the truth but no one telling them. And through all those, I want to be that messenger. I, selfishly, want to be the one that comes over the hill, looks into their distrustful eyes, and speaks joy and Truth to them. I want to wipe away the tears and say, "yes, indeed, it's true. I was once chained and alone too." Don't you? Shouldn't all Daughters of Zion want to find our sisters, wherever they may be imprisoned, and run to them. To throw them the key that will unlock the hurt forever? I do, and I'm so grateful for a God that gives women images to look to, knowing us intimately and, therefore, knowing we need it spelled out in ways that mean "me too" not just others.