Out Of Control And Loving It

Awake, awake, O Zion, clothe yourself with strength. Put on

your garments of splendor, O Jerusalem, the holy city. The

uncircumcised and defiled will not enter you again. Shake

off your dust; rise up, sit enthroned, O Jerusalem. Free yourself

from the chains on your neck, O captive Daughter of Zion” (Isa.

52:1–2).

I begin with this scripture because I believe hidden within its

poignant imagery is a wealth of truth. These truths began an

awakening in my life, one that resonated through my soul until

my entire being was touched. I share its precious message of

freedom with you. I invite you to ponder and dissect it with me,

searching each segment for its hidden truth. Together let’s visit

this captive daughter of Zion.

I envision her hopelessly chained to a wall of stone. I see the

footprints in the dusty earth where she struggled to escape. Her

neck is rubbed raw where the metal yoke encircles it. She mindlessly

paces the length of her chain, retracing each step in search

of some key to set her free. She scans the dust, poking and probing

each crevice in the wall.

Hopeless and discouraged she now sits in the dust, shoulders

Out of Control and Loving It!

bent, clothes ragged, strength spent. Though it is day, she lapses

into an exhausted stupor of restless sleep.

Then I see a strong messenger arrive. I watch over his shoulder

as he pities this worn and wounded woman. He stands before

her silently watching as her head tosses in her sleep. Suddenly he

steps forward, shakes her, and calls her by name.

Awake, awake, O Zion, clothe yourself with strength. Put on

your garments of splendor . . . Shake off your dust; rise up, sit

enthroned, O Jerusalem. Free yourself from the chains on

your neck, O captive Daughter of Zion.

She struggles to her feet, swaying weakly and pointing to the

wall, the chain, and her yoke. “Help me,” she pleads as she strains

for his hand, but he steps back beyond her reach.

Once again he repeats his message, pauses, and then turns and

walks away.

Bewildered she calls after him, but the wind snatches her voice,

and he does not return. She laments, “The wall is too solid; my

chain, too heavy; and I, too weak to lift myself out from all this!”

In despair she strains at her chain until she no longer can stand

the pressure of resisting. She moves back to the shelter of her

wall. At least there she can feel what is behind her and see what

is in front of her.

I rehearsed this scenario over and over in my mind, acutely

feeling her pain and frustration. Why was my vision so clear?

Because I too was a captive daughter of Zion.

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