There’s a powerful scene in the movie Shawshank Redemption that captures something profound about the human condition. An elderly librarian, imprisoned for fifty years, finally receives parole. Free at last, he moves into a small apartment—his own space, his own life. Yet night after night, he sleeps on the floor. The bed feels too exposed, too vulnerable. For half a century, the floor meant safety, a place to hide beneath the bed when danger came. Now, in freedom, he remains imprisoned by the habits of captivity.
This image reflects a spiritual reality many believers face today. Though Christ has set us free, we continue living as slaves. We carry chains that have already been unlocked. We sleep on the floor when a bed has been prepared for us.
The Spirit We’ve Received
Romans 8:12-17 presents a startling truth: “You did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear. Instead, you received the Spirit of adoption, by whom we cry out, ‘Abba, Father.'”
The distinction is critical. Before knowing Christ, we were slaves—bound by sin, controlled by shame, captive to our past. But salvation changes everything. We don’t merely receive forgiveness; we receive adoption. We become sons and daughters of the King.
Yet many believers never begin to live this out. They remain stuck in shame, viewing God through the lens of their failures rather than through the lens of His grace. When asked whether God tolerates them or delights in them, they hesitate. Deep down, they believe God merely puts up with them—that He’s obligated to accept them but doesn’t truly rejoice over them.
This couldn’t be further from the truth.
The Difference Between Tolerance and Delight
Consider the difference between how you relate to your own children versus other people’s children. You might tolerate twenty neighborhood kids running through your house on a Saturday afternoon. You’ll feed them, supervise them, even correct them when necessary. But your own children? You delight in them. They’re yours. Their presence brings joy, not mere obligation.
God made a way for you to become His child—not through anything you did, but through what Christ accomplished. When you accepted that gift, you became His son or daughter. Why would He suddenly shift to merely tolerating you when you stumble? The belief that He does reveals we’re still living in shame rather than sonship.
The Flesh vs. The Spirit
Romans 8:13 reminds us: “If you live according to the flesh, you are going to die. But if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.”
We have power over our flesh through the Holy Spirit. This power wasn’t reserved only for the early church—it’s available to every believer today. Yet most of us simply surrender when our flesh starts demanding attention. We assume that because we’re “in the flesh,” we must live “according to the flesh.”
But that’s not what Scripture teaches. We’re called to be different. When the Holy Spirit moves in, something else must move out. Genuine salvation produces genuine transformation.
Peter’s story illustrates this beautifully. In the garden, he lived according to the flesh—drawing his sword and cutting off a man’s ear. In the courtyard, fear controlled him—he denied Christ three times, even cursing to prove his point. Peter forgot he was a son and lived in shame.
But then came Pentecost. Peter stood on the temple steps, surrounded by Roman guards and the very religious leaders who had orchestrated Jesus’ crucifixion. His flesh surely screamed at him to shut up and hide. Yet Peter preached boldly, calling them to account. The flesh didn’t win that day. The Spirit did.
The Power of Secrets
The enemy’s most effective weapon isn’t making you sin—he can’t force you to do anything. His power lies in keeping you silent about your sin. Shame thrives in secrecy. When you hide something, the devil exploits it, whispering threats: “What if they found out? What if she knew? Your ministry would be over. Your reputation would be destroyed.”
These whispers keep believers paralyzed, living as slaves rather than sons. And here’s the tragic irony: God already knows what you did. He’s simply waiting for you to admit it, to bring it into the light where shame loses its power.
Confession isn’t about informing God of something He doesn’t know. It’s about agreeing with Him about what He already sees and receiving the forgiveness He’s already extended. It’s about moving from hiding to healing, from captivity to freedom.
Your Father Is Waiting
The parable of the prodigal son captures the Father’s heart perfectly. When the wayward son returned home, broken and ashamed, ready to beg for a servant’s position, the father didn’t lecture him. He didn’t make him earn his way back. He ran to him, embraced him, placed a ring on his finger, a robe on his shoulders, sandals on his feet, and threw a party.
Why? Because he was his son.
The Bible tells us there’s rejoicing in heaven when one person comes home—not just among the angels, but in the presence of God Himself. The Father throws the party. He celebrates because His child has returned.
You don’t have to knock and wait for permission to enter. You’re not a guest or a servant. You’re family. Children don’t ask permission—they burst through the door and run to their father.
Living as Heirs
Romans 8:17 declares: “And if children, also heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ.”
Co-heirs with Christ. Let that sink in. Everything that belongs to the Son belongs to you. The same Spirit that empowered Jesus to perform miracles dwells in you. He said His followers would do the works He did—and even greater works.
So why do we live like powerless slaves? Why do we seek everyone’s approval when we’ve already been approved by the King? Why do we fight as if we’re trying to earn something we’ve already received?
You’re not fighting for victory—you’re fighting from victory to victory. You’re not trying to become God’s child; you already are His child. Your ticket to heaven is already punched. Now it’s time to live like it.
Your Book Is Being Written
God is writing a book with your life. Every chapter—even the difficult, shameful ones—serves His purpose. Romans 8:28 promises that He works all things together for good. Not some things. All things.
If you’re unwilling to let others read your book, you’re still living in shame. This doesn’t mean glorifying your past sins, but it does mean recognizing that the hero showed up in your story. Christ entered your narrative and changed everything. The chapters He’s writing now exist because of what happened in earlier chapters.
Your story has power—power to encourage, to inspire, to point others toward the same Savior who rescued you.
The Choice Before You
You can choose to live in sonship or remain in shame. You can embrace your identity as God’s beloved child or continue dragging around chains that have already been unlocked.
The declaration is simple but profound: I am no longer a slave to fear. I have received the Spirit of adoption. I belong to God as His child. I will live from sonship, not shame.
The bed is ready. It’s time to stop sleeping on the floor.
Thoughts from Pastor Toney 