This past Saturday, I heard a story about an elephant that had been tied to a post for most of its life. Over time, the rope was removed, but the elephant stayed right where it was. Not because it couldn’t leave, but because it didn’t realize it was free.
That image has stayed with me. Because if I’m honest, I think a lot of us live like that elephant.
Sin can become a post.
Something that once truly held us captive. Something familiar. Something we returned to. Not because it was good, but because it was known.
Jesus said it clearly: “Everyone who sins is a slave to sin.” (John 8:34). Before Christ, the rope was real. But then Jesus came. At the cross, He didn’t loosen the rope. He didn’t weaken it. He cut it completely.
Scripture tells us, “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.” (Galatians 5:1). Not WILL set us free. HAS.

And yet… I still find myself standing by the post. Not because I don’t love Jesus. Not because I want sin more than Him. But because my body and mind learned something before my heart knew freedom.
Paul describes this tension perfectly:
“I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing.” (Romans 7:19). That verse used to confuse me. Now it comforts me. Because it reminds me that struggling doesn’t mean I’m unsaved. It means I’m human, learning how to walk in what’s already been given.
There’s a difference between being freed and knowing how to live free. Sometimes I stand there out of habit. Sometimes out of fear. Sometimes because stepping away feels unfamiliar. Even though the rope is gone.
And when I fail, the shame whispers that maybe I was never free to begin with. But that voice is not Jesus.
“There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 8:1). Jesus does not re-tie the rope when I fall. He doesn’t step back. He doesn’t withdraw His love. Instead, Scripture tells us, “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9).
Freedom, I’m learning, isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s a quiet moment where you realize nothing is pulling you back. Sometimes it’s one small step away from the post. Sometimes it’s falling, and getting back up knowing the rope is still cut.

Sanctification is a process. Paul calls it being “transformed by the renewing of your mind.” (Romans 12:2). And the most beautiful part? We don’t learn to walk alone. “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” (Psalm 34:18).
I’m still learning to trust my freedom. Still learning to move my feet. Still learning that grace doesn’t disappear when I stumble. But the rope is cut. And even when I stand still, Jesus stands with me.
If you’re standing by a post you no longer belong to, hear this:
Freedom is already yours. And when you’re ready to take a step, even a small one, Jesus will be right there.