Counterfeit liberty

“You are free now,” the whisper begins—

“Free to follow your heart,” it purrs,

“Free to write your own truth.

Free to shed the weight of old commands

and step into your fullest self.”

“After all,” it hums,

“didn’t Jesus die so you could be you?

Why let anyone bind you with burdens?

Rules are relics. Obedience is oppression.

Grace has made you wild and untamed.

God just wants you happy, doesn’t He?”

He doesn’t roar like a lion—he whispers like a friend. He never demands that you forsake Christ outright. No, he lets you keep His name on your lips— but remove His crown from your heart. He dresses rebellion in robes of authenticity,

and calls it liberation.

He calls disobedience self-discovery,

and labels conviction shame.

He tries to redefine freedom as autonomy—

not holiness. Because what better way to kill a soul than to convince it it’s already alive?

But listen—

The cross was not a permission slip to wander;

It was a purchase.

You were not set free to drift,

but to dwell—

to belong,

to obey.

You were not saved to become more you,

but to become more His.

Grace does not erase the call to follow—

it empowers it.

It doesn’t diminish the weight of glory—

it strengthens your shoulders to carry it.

You are free—

yes, gloriously free!

But free from sin, not free to sin.

Free from striving, but not from surrender.

Free from condemnation, but never from the call.

Because true freedom is not the absence of a Master—it’s joyfully bowing to the right One.

So awaken, Church.

Shake off the soft chains of counterfeit liberty.

Let holiness feel heavy again—

for the weight of glory is worth it.

And when your flesh cries out,

remind it: Grace is not a license to lead yourself.

It is the power to follow the Lamb

wherever He goes.

Let the world preach happiness—

we are called to holiness.

And in His holiness,

we find something better than happiness—

we find Him.

And in Him,

we are truly free.