Paul prayed once, “…[that they] might become such as I am, except for these chains.” He was speaking literally since he was imprisoned at the time. I pray it often, and it reminds me of my chains.
We all have them; chains around our arms and our legs and our hearts. They’re all different and I won’t tell you what mine are. Some chains are long and we can move around and no one would know we’re bound and sometimes even we forget. Some people’s chains are so short they can hardly move, let alone breath. And they get so frustrated and tired struggling against them that they become angry or bitter, resentful and sometimes sad or more often mean. But all of us carry our chains every day.
The writer of Hebrews said that we should lay aside every hindrance… but casting aside our chains isn’t achieved through some Herculean effort of our strength. Ridiculously, God waits. Until we acknowledge that we hear the metal clinking and say, “Lord, my wrist is bound. This chain grows heavier every day and I am weary with the effort of every movement.” Then He walks up with the key and unlocks us.
Oddly enough, some people are so unfamiliar with living in freedom that they pick their chains back up; because the weight, if nothing else, is familiar and comfortable. But if we have the boldness to let go, we find that we’ve developed a peculiar strength, muscles we never really considered or expected. And we lay aside that particular hindrance discovering the freedom to move, to run and not grow weary.
Its Acts 26:29 if you want to look it up.