The Fall by Max Lucado

The Fall
by Max Lucado, from Tell Me the Story


I did not write this but it is a story from one of my favorite books. And I believe there is so much truth within it.

LONG AGO IN A LAND FAR AWAY and unlike any you've ever seen, there lived a wise man named Shaddai. Shaddai was a large man with a tender heart. He had bright blue eyes and a long, thick beard. When He laughed, which is something He did often, His cheeks would lift until His eyes became half-moons of joy.
When He sang, which is something else He did often, everything stopped to listen. Tall aspens could bend. Squirrels, butterflies, and birds would pause. Even the children would turn when they heard His voice. And well they should. It was for them He sang.
And for them He built a wonderful village. It was more than any child could dream. The children plunged into the pond fed by the underwater spring. They shrieked as they soared high on the long swings under the thick-branched apple trees. They scampered through the grass-carpeted meadows and fruit-filled orchards. The sun never seemed to set too early, and the night sky always soothed. And, most of all, Shaddai was always near.
When Shaddai wasn't in the meadow with the children or in the orchards with the children, He was in the workshop--with the children. They loved to smell the sawdust, hear Him sing, and watch Him carve a chair out of a log or make a table out of a tree. They would gather around Him and take turns laying their tiny hands flat against His huge one.
Every night He would gather the children on the grassy meadow and tell them stories. Spellbound, the children would listen as long as Shaddai--or their weary eyes--allowed.
The children loved Shaddai. And Shaddai loved the children. When they called His name, He dropped whatever He was doing and turned. His giant heart had a hundred strings--each held by a different child.
That's why He built the wall.
The wall was a stone fence surrounding the village. With great care Shaddai had laid each rock upon the other. The base of the fence was wider than too of His strides. The wall rose above Shaddai, even with His hand stretched skyward. He spent days building the fence. And as He built, He did not sing. A deadly wilderness lay outside the village. As Shaddai built the fence, He would often pause and look into its shadows. Cruel thorns and savage beasts and hidden pits filled the dark forest. It was no place for children with soft skin. Certain death awaited any who would enter. "Beyond the wall is no life," He would tell the children in solemn tones. "You were made for My village, not for the terrible land beyond. Stay with Me. It's safe here." But in His heart He knew it was only a matter of time.
The day He placed the final stone on the wall, He returned to His shop, took a long aspen branch and carved a staff, and stood it in a corner. He would be ready.
One day a boy ran into Shaddai's workshop. The sandy-haired child with searching eyes and restless energy brought the Maker both joy and concern.
"Shaddai! "
In one motion the Builder dropped His hammer and turned. "What is it, Paladin?"
The boy spoke in spurts as he gasped for air. "The wall . . . I found an . . . opening. It's a large opening, Sire." The boy's hands stretched to show the size. "Someone could crawl through it."
Shaddai pulled over a stool and sat down. "I knew it would be you, Paladin, my child. Tell me, how did you find it?"
"I was walking along the wall searching for---"
"Holes?"
Paladin paused, surprised that Shaddai knew. "Yes, I was looking for holes."
"So you could see out into the forest?"
"I was curious, Shaddai. I wanted to know what is so bad out there that You won't let us go."
Shaddai motioned for the boy to come. When he got close, the Maker cupped the small face in His hands and lifted it so the boy could look directly into His eyes. The urgency of the look caused Paladin's stomach to feel. hollow.
"Paladin, listen to Me. The regions beyond are not for you. They are not for Me. A journey into the wilderness will bring death. You were not made for those lands. Let your feet carry you to the many places you can go--not to the one place you can't. If you leave here, you will not find the way back."
Paladin spoke softly. "You will fix the hole then?"
"No, Paladin, I created it."
"You broke the wall? But You just said You didn't want us to leave."
"I don't want you to leave. But I left the opening when I built the wall."
"But unless You fix it--"
"--the children might leave. I know, Paladin. But as long as the children have to stay, they aren't really here."
Paladin didn't understand, but he didn't want to ask any more questions. Uncomfortable, he turned to leave. As he entered the sunlight, he looked back into the shop. There sat Shaddai, leaning forward, still looking at Paladin.
Paladin was confused. Part of him wanted the safety of Shaddai's shop, while another part drew him toward the fence. He looked again into the shop. Shaddai was standing now--not moving, but standing. His large hand stretched out to the boy.
Paladin turned quickly away, as if not to see. He walked as fast as he could, aimlessly at first, then purposely toward the fence.
"I won't get too near," he said to himself. "I'll just peek out."
Questions came as quickly as his steps. What is this, pull I feel... this curiosity? Why would Shaddai tell me to deny an urge I feel so strongly? Is a desire to see beyond the fence so wrong?
By now he was at the hole. Without stopping to think, he lay on his stomach and squirmed through just far enough to stick his head out the other side.
"Why would a journey there bring death?" Paladin asked himself as he peered at the forbidden forest. "What is it that Shaddai is protecting me from or... keeping me from?"
As if his knees were moving on their own, Paladin crept further. Soon his body was through the hole, and he rose slowly to his feet. For several moments he didn't move. He wondered if something could come out of the trees to hurt him. Nothing did. He relaxed his shoulders and sighed. "It's not so bad" he spoke aloud to break the silence. "It's nice out here. What was Shaddai worried about?"
After a dozen more steps he stopped. He liked the wilderness. "Nothing to fear here." For the first time in his young life, he believed that Shaddai was wrong. "Just wait until I tell the others." And he turned to go back through the hole.
But the hole was gone!
He stopped and stared. He saw only solid wall. Paladin ran to the fence and stooped at the very spot were he'd come through. He knew this was the place. But there was no hole and no sign that there had ever been one. He ran a dozen steps one way and then a dozen steps the other. Nothing.
Suddenly he heard a strange sound in the woods behind him. He swung around, but he saw nothing. Paladin looked into the forest. Now it no longer seemed friendly. It was dark and threatening, as if it were about to devour him.
Desperately, Paladin searched the fence. It was too tall to climb over, too thick to break through. There was no way home.
"If you leave here, you will not find the way back." Shaddai's cords rang in his mind.
The boy's eyes were wide with fear. He sat on the ground and hugged his knees to his chest and began to cry.
"Shaddai, Shaddai! I'm so sorry. Please come help me."
Paladin's plea had been heard before he spoke it. For as he left Shaddai's workshop, the Maker had watched him as long as He could. When the boy was out of sight, Shaddai turned, not to take up His work but to remove His apron. He hung His tools on the wall. Then He reached into the corner and took the staff, the one He'd carved after He finished the fence.
Even before Paladin had reached the fence, Shaddai had left the shop. Even before Paladin had asked for help, Shaddai was on the way to give it. Even before the hole in the fence had closed, Shaddai had opened another. His strong hands pulled away the rocks until He could see into the forest.
With His staff at His side, Shaddai crawled through the hole. He left the village He'd made and entered the land for which He wasn't made and set out in search of His child.

Freedom from Me: Dobby is a Free Elf

I should be doing my body weight in homework, but I can't even focus with all these thoughts swirling around my head. For the past couple of months, my mind has been focused on this intensely convoluted topic of Freedom. Honestly, what the hell does that even mean? God says over and over in the whole freaking New Testament, that we are free, that when we proclaim Jesus as Lord, "the old has died, and the new has come!" (2 Corinthians 5:17).  John says, "So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed." (John 8:36). 

Jesus came to earth because of the Love of our heavenly Father to set us Free. He came abounding in grace to bring freedom. I know this because I believe that Jesus Christ said so and His Dad backed Him up. So then, why do I not feel free 97 % of the time? 

This question has wrecked me over this last semester. I feel so trapped. All the time. And, it's like, what the heck God? You promised to give me Life and Life to the full! (John 10:10). And I believe that God keeps His promises because the Truth cannot lie. He cannot be what it is not, and He is not a liar. With that truth in mind, how then could it possibly make any sense that I feel as though I'm in a small padded room without a door? I proclaim Jesus as Lord, and He says, "For one who has died has been set free from sin." Have I died?

We hold on. We hold on the what we know, to what we want, to our own plan, our own timing, our own thoughts and ways and ideas. And what we fail to realize that nothing belongs to us in the first place. The things of this world we cling to will pass away and only One will remain.

Many times, I think of freedom as being able to do what I want, when I want. I think that freedom is about me. HA.

Freedom has absolutely nothing at all to do with self-addicted, broken, two-timing, Sydney. I cheat on God with the world along with every other damn sinner (which means humanity) everyday. Whenever I put something before the Lord, my actions speak that whatever I am doing is more important. Most of the time, I do not actually believe that what I am doing is more important or significant than the God of all things. But my thoughts and words and actions clearly are not all lining up because clearly, as a repenting sinner, I admit that I'm wrong yet continue to fall short and show with actions that whatever I'm doing is more important than the glory of the Father.  Often, we live lives we don't really believe in. We live in what is comfortable and messy and instinctual. Far to often, I live in my guilt. I live in my sin. I live in myself. And that is the key. That is the missing link I have been searching for all these months: Freedom is not about me.

Freedom is about "me" dying. It is about the perishable passing away. It is about being refined into a new creation with a new name. It is about living in purpose. It is about throwing off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles and running with arms wide open to our Savior. It is about fixing our eyes on someone other than ourselves, fixing our eyes on the Author and Perfecter of our faith, who for the Joy set before Him, endured the cross, scorning its' shame, and who sits at the right hand of the throne of God. (Hebrews 12:1-2).

Freedom is not a feeling. It is an act. It is a life. It is a gift. And it is not about us.
I have been given an incredible Freedom to have an intimate relationship with the Creator of all that is and was and will be. YOU CANNOT READ THIS AND TELL ME THAT THAT IS A SOMETHING THAT DOESN'T MAKE YOU WANT DANCE AND SING AND VOMIT ALL AT THE SAME TIME! (I mean, maybe you can, but I most certainly cannot)

I completely believe that you can know Jesus and sin. I know because I experience this everyday. But it is a Goddamn bummer if we continue to live in this world as if that is ok. Because, damnit, we were made for so much more! We spend copious amounts of time attempting to squeeze ourselves in the image of this world, trying to fit ourselves in to a society of people and expectations. And you know what? It isn't that difficult to do. Many times, is horrifically easy. But it takes true faith to walk in Freedom. It takes true faith to say that You are worth more- more than the sin we fall into and more than the guilt we may feel and more than the judgements and expectations of mere man. I believe that there is a difference between sinning and being a slave to it. A slave does not know freedom, is afraid of freedom, doesn't understand how to live in such a way of Love. But lucky us, we get a human and flesh example of what that can be like. Props to you Jesus.

A lot of times, I feel like Dobby the Elf (#harrypotterreference). I desire to be free, but when I do something wrong, I want to hit myself over the head with a lamp. And once I realize my freedom and that I have been given a sock, that I have been clothed,  I don't really know how to grasp it. It takes some time getting used to. And it is also a very confusing concept. Because the flesh and sin are still just as real as Freedom and holiness. It's quite the paradox.

I believe it is very possible to live lives that are half in and half out. I also believe that we are very talented at making things harder than they need to be. We are faced with many choices. And though I believe we are loved despite what we may choose, I believe our choices do reveal a lot, not about who we are, but who we believe we are. Our choices directly impact what we believe and what we claim to believe. Unfortunately, far too often, these are not the same.

We can be stronger than the temptation of this world. But lets be honest: most of us that know Christ understand this and many times, we would much rather live in ignorance. We care more about the here and now and what we want. We are like children, needing instant gratification. Patience is a rough concept for this generation. We care about us. I care about me. He cares about himself. It's the boomerang effect.  We kinda suck. But God isn't even phased by that.

We have a Freedom to experience a Love that makes absolutely no sense in this world I call my temporary home. And when we experience a love like that, it is our duty and obligation and literally God-given right to share that with every single human being we come in contact with. We have a freedom to love unconditionally. We have a freedom to throw off what hinders us, whether that be judgment, or expectations or the feelings of worthlessness.

So often, we continue to look at people through our own eyes. They are blind eyes. They are eyes that have been weakened by sight of lies in action. We look through eyes of condemnation. That may sound harsh, but we all judge people on a daily basis. And many of us walk in that step of life. We judge people based on the clothes they wear, their beauty, their age, their size, their color. We judge them by the music they listen too and the friends they have. We judge them by what they do and what they don't do. We judge them by hairstyles and all sorts of other meaningless, freaking, objectifying terms that lead to nothing and cause so much hurt and cynicism. We decide to play God. Our actions tend to add to our continual cycle of brokenness. But God came and said "Enough! It is finished!"

This lack of living and walking in Freedom is not an epidemic that merely affects those who are apart from the church. It is a problem that affects Christians and agnostics and atheists alike. It is a problem that has an answer. But many of us are far too terrified to let go of ourselves. We have this ability to share a Love that can change the coldest heart, a Love that is radical and different, a Love that can and will completely change this world whether or not we hop on board. But we are too often ruled by a spirit of fear. And that is not of the Lord.

We can look at people differently. We can look at them, both Christians and non-Christians alike and we can look at them through love. I'm so sick of these damn labels that we all seem to cling to as a means of identifying people. We are all people and God said to love. That's it. There is no if, ands or buts. We love because He said so. And we can only do that a part from us.

I see too many Christians judging non-Christians and non-Christians judging Christians and Christians judging Christians and effing people judging people. Because we all think we know it all.

What does it mean to die to ourselves? I can tell you, that I don't fully know. I think it means less of us, less of "me" and "I" and more of "Him". It means allowing the Lord to wreck You and letting Him bend you to His will. Because as strange as it sounds, I believe that true freedom lies in giving up self-indulgence, in God healing what was corrupted and made broken.

If we do not live in what we believe, we will quickly become confused. We will be pulled in all different directions as the spiritual battle rages within us. 

We have a freedom to love people- the well-dressed and fashion-impaired, the beautiful and the ugly, the young and the old, the wealthy and the poor, the strong and the weak, the Christian and the non-Christian. We have a freedom to love people who we agree with and disagree with. Love should know no limits and cannot be stopped by labels or human thoughts or emotions. Love should drive us past ourselves and into a broken world that could really use a lot of Jesus.

Freedom is about God. It is about His glory. And we are to glorify the One True King.

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." (John 1:1)