Still Living Like Slaves in Our Freedom

There’s a story that keeps echoing in me lately—the Israelites, fresh out of Egypt, walking in miraculous freedom… but still living like slaves.

They were free, yes. But their minds and hearts hadn’t caught up. They grumbled. They doubted. They even wanted to return to what once enslaved them. Egypt was behind them, but somehow, it was still inside them.

“In their hearts they turned back to Egypt.”

— Acts 7:39

I don’t think that was just their story.

I wonder how many of us are still carrying pieces of Egypt—in our habits, our identity, our pace, our expectations.

How many of us are technically “free,” but still operating from patterns formed in bondage?

“It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.”

— Galatians 5:1

That verse used to sound like a warning.

Lately, it sounds more like an invitation.

Because freedom is not just about walking out of something. It’s about learning to live differently within the new.

The Israelites were no longer slaves, but they didn’t know how to live as free people yet. And the same can be true for us.

Sometimes we’re delivered but still driven.

Healed but still hiding.

Redeemed but still reaching for control.

And sometimes, even the good and godly things—like ministry, calling, service—can quietly start to mimic the burdens we thought we left behind. We trade the chains of the world for the chains of religious pressure. We start performing instead of abiding. Building instead of beholding.

“They spoke against God; they said, ‘Can God really spread a table in the wilderness?’”

— Psalm 78:19

That question lingers.

Can God really meet us here—in the unstructured, unbranded, unfiltered places?

Can we trust Him in the wilderness, without the systems and titles and ceilings we’ve come to depend on?

I’m starting to believe we’re not meant to carry certain things with us into freedom. Not everything gets to come with us out of Egypt.

The hustle. The approval-chasing. The polished image. The constant pressure to do more, be more, prove more.

That’s not kingdom.

That’s captivity in disguise.

“Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.”

— 2 Corinthians 3:17

What if our call isn’t to build something that proves our worth, but to become someone who walks in His presence?

What if ministry isn’t a model or a brand—but a life of overflow?

What if God is calling us to loosen our grip, unlearn the rhythm of Egypt, and step into something more honest… more restful… more free?

“You were bought at a price; do not become slaves of men.”

— 1 Corinthians 7:23

That verse feels like a key.

Because yes—we’ve been set free.

But now comes the question: Will we live like it?

Reflection Questions

(Take these into prayer, journaling, or quiet conversation with God)

1. Are there places in your life where you still feel enslaved, even though you’ve been set free?

2. What are you still carrying from “Egypt” that God may be asking you to leave behind?

3. Have you unknowingly traded one kind of bondage for another—performance for purpose, pressure for presence?

4. What does freedom look and feel like to your soul?

5. Where might God be inviting you to live, lead, or serve more freely?

A Closing Prayer

Lord, I don’t want to grumble my way through the wilderness

or reach back for what You’ve already called me out of.

I want to be a person who walks in freedom—

not just the kind I talk about, but the kind I actually live.

Help me see where I’m still holding Egypt in my heart.

Help me trust You enough to walk in the wide-open spaces of grace.

Let my ministry be my life, not my burden.

And let it all flow from Your Spirit—

not my striving.

Amen.

Or all of the above—I can help prepare those next if you’d like.