Thoughts On: John 1:9-13

The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.

John 1:9-13, ESV

As a child, I loved to read. I loved the way I felt when I opened a book, like I was powerful and strong and smart. I loved the way a page would land between my index finger and thumb as I became anxious to turn it and find what came next, and I loved the way the words caught me up into something I didn’t dare believe could exist - but it did.

Somewhere along the way I lost that magic, and the strength that comes with it. Somewhere along the way I lost my backbone, and I began to mold myself into everyone else. It was around the time that I stopped reading that the lie crept in: I am a victim.

I wish this was never the truth. Being a victim stole years from my life I will never get back. The addiction to fix held me in a vice grip, and letting go never seemed a good enough option. I loved it. I loved the attention. I loved that I got to be the good one. I ate it up like addicts always do, and the lie became my absolute truth.

But here it is, humble and real: Jesus Christ had every right to be a victim. He came into the world He created, and no one said a word. His own people did not accept Him. Eventually he would be mocked and spat on and strung up naked for everyone to see - and still he didn’t cave.

And there it is, bright and bold and breathing life: “But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.” 

The right. I am entitled to it, authorized for it, given permission to accept it. It is my prerogative; it is in my power. It is where my mind becomes new: I am a child of God.

I lost myself in being the victim, but this is where the magic comes back. As a child of God I am free, and I am given a backbone. There is a foundation to stand on, now, and I don’t have to bow down to anyone else. It is the same freedom I felt when I opened my books as a child: There is room to be, here. There is a place for me. No longer am I a daughter of the lies - as a daughter of the true light, I finally find my peace. Finally, I love to read again.