No truth is more glorious to a prisoner than this:
You are no longer condemned.
You are free.

This is the message Christ brings to the weary, the shackled, the sin-sick:
That His sacrifice is enough. That the chains of condemnation no longer have the final word.

“There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 8:1)

No condemnation.
That means I will not be separated from God—not now, not ever.
That means I am no longer bound by the tyranny of sin.
That means freedom. Life. Hope.

And yet… I sometimes still live like I’m behind bars.

I know I’ve been set free.
But guilt can be persuasive.
Sometimes it whispers that I haven’t done enough. That I’m still too flawed. That I should have grown out of this struggle by now. That I’m failing Him.

I find myself rehashing the past, agonizing over my imperfections, punishing myself for what’s already been forgiven. And while guilt can be a healthy nudge to course-correct when we’ve sinned—it can also become a weight that crushes joy, silences worship, and keeps us from living in the freedom Christ already purchased.

The law, in its perfection, reveals just how far I fall short.
It shines a light on my weakness—and in doing so, it brings guilt.
But Jesus didn’t come to leave me in that guilt.
He came to rescue. To redeem. To set me free.

The law convicts.
But grace covers.

Through Christ’s death on the cross, I have been forgiven—fully.
Eternally.
Irrevocably.

If Christ, who knows me completely, no longer condemns me—
Why do I still condemn myself?

All I accomplish by replaying my guilt and shame is chaining myself to a cell He already unlocked.

Years ago, a wise friend—Vicki Dye—shared something with me that I’ve never forgotten. She reminded me of this breathtaking truth: all of my sin was future to the cross.
Every past mistake. Every present struggle. Every future failure.

From the vantage point of Calvary, every sin I would ever commit was known.
And still, Jesus died for me.

If the cross wasn’t sufficient for all my sin—past, present, and future—then I have no hope.
But if it was—and it was—then I can stop trying to earn what’s already been given.
I can stop trying to perfect what He has already declared righteous.
I can live in the freedom of being not guilty because of Jesus.

God has promised me glory in Christ.
Not because I’ve earned it.
But because He has declared it.

And that promise?
I can count on it.
I can rest in it.
I can live free because of it.

Christ has set me free.
Let me not live like I’m still bound.