When Freedom Feels Like a Fight

A few days ago, I was experiencing some nervous energy and decided it would be a good idea to go wander the beach along the shore.   The farther I got down the beach, I noticed a pelican just drying his wings and a tree standing tall on roots that jutted nearly five feet out of the sand.   But the most interesting thing came after I had started my trek back.

On the path back, I noticed a fellow struggling to reel in something he’d snagged on his fishing line.   It didn’t appear to be of monstrous size, but it was clearly putting up a fight.   Curious, I stuck around hoping to see something really cool.   The wait didn’t disappoint-  It turned out to be a 3-foot bonnethead shark.   He proudly showed it to his young daughter, who, judging by her expression, was not nearly as impressed as he was.

Then came the tricky part – removing the hook to set the shark free and back on his way.   The shark was not one bit happy about being snared and stranded on land.   The poor guy was flipping and flopping wildly all over.   In fact, it took a few tries just to get a good grasp on the shark.   When he finally grabbed him, the shark was still having none of it and was absolutely not opening his mouth for the removal of the hook.   The fisherman had to pry the mouth open multiple times until finally he just had to hold it open.   The hook was lodged deep and not easily removed.  All the while, the bonnethead was still thrashing about still feverishly fighting as hard as it could.   At last, the hook came free, and the fisherman released the little shark back into the surf.   Within seconds, it was gliding away, back to its home in the open sea.

As I walked away from that scene, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I resemble that bonnethead shark when God tries to work something out of me. I resist, twist, and fight the very hands that are trying to free me. Sometimes I even clamp my “mouth” shut, unwilling to let Him in to remove what’s hurting me. But just like that fisherman’s persistence, God’s hands are steady and patient. He doesn’t recoil from my thrashing; He stays near until the hook comes loose. It’s rarely a painless process, but once it’s done, the release is unmistakable. The shark didn’t look back once it was free—it swam straight for open water. And maybe that’s the point: God doesn’t remove our hooks to scold us for getting caught; He does it so we can return to the freedom we were made for. The question is—will I let Him?

THINK ABOUT IT

When has God tried to remove something from your life that you resisted—only to realize later it was for your freedom?

What “hooks” might still be lodged in your heart—habits, fears, or sins—that God is patiently trying to remove?