My oldest child, my first born, my child of promise, who I adored and loved; who made me laugh and whose intelligence never failed to surprise me; this child who I poured myself into; is a drug addict.  She is the girl in this song.  Why? I don’t really know.  I did everything “right”…I stayed home with my kids, I interacted with them, I took them to church, prayed with them and mentored them. Her father and I stayed married–and love each other. We both participated in our children’s lives. We loved her and told her so all the time. We were proud of her, and believed in her, and told her so. We encouraged her artistic talents in music, drama, and all the visual arts she enjoyed and to which she was so gifted. We were there for all her plays, her art shows, her band and symphony concerts. We were proud of her academic achievements, and told all who would listen of her talents. We trusted her. We supported her love of animals, and praised her for taking such excellent care of her reptiles, and dogs. She was dependable and responsible. We taught her to value work, and she started working for her own bicycle when she was 12 years old. She even took her first paycheck, and entirely on her own, she bought her grandmother a Bible. She got herself a job when she was 15, and was able to save enough money to buy herself a car.  She went to church, whenever the door was open, and even took her friends to church. She went on visitation, and to youth group. We had no doubts and no worries about her future. She was college bound, and well grounded.

What happened?  She has chosen to reject all we have given her. She has taken our gifts and literally tossed them into a trash heap in her yard. She has sold and pawned all she has ever valued, and worked for herself. She has sacrificed her artistic talents, her reputation, her virtue, her intelligence,  her health, her security, her faith, and given all she has and is, to her addictions. She serves her addictions. She lives for them. She has given them all she is.

Yet, she still loves us. She calls us, and sees us and talks to us. She lets us know when she has a basic need. And we often will buy her groceries, or clothes when she asks. She likes to talk to us. She enjoys discussing politics, and religion. And when she is in a very bad situation, we are the first she calls, for she knows we are there to help her.

But, the fact is, that my daughter can not live in my house. We can not trust her with our things. Although we love her and are ready to help her at any moment; her choice to continue to serve her addictions separates her from us. She isn’t as close to us as she could be. She will never receive any part of our inheritance, that we have saved up for her. Instead, she will receive what the faithfulness to her addiction provides: illness, misery, brutality, cruelty, hunger, poverty, and eventually, death. Our hearts are broken by her choices, and the misery she lives. We so want her to live out the promising life she was given. Yet, even though we are there, constantly ready to help her overcome her addiction–she chooses not to stop serving it.

The same is true for each of us. God has given us so much. He has done so much for us. But, we all have a sin that separates us from our Heavenly Father. Our Father who loves us and is heartbroken over the way we are living our lives, when we could have so much more. The Lord has all we need to overcome the sin, we just need to take it. God doesn’t just want to talk to us about what we believe and want; although he is happy to hear from us, in prayer and worship…and He will talk to us…but, what would really make him happy, is if we would choose to accept His help. If we would stop serving our sin, let go and live the glorious life, and spend the inheritance that He has saved up for us! He has a home for us, He has gifts for us and treasure for us, that we are missing because we chose our sin, everyday.

Maybe that sin, is that you don’t want to see, be around, befriend or witness to, someone like this girl in the video. Someone like my daughter. Someone who needs you. Maybe it is your comfort that you serve. Maybe it is your pleasure that you serve. Whatever it is, you will not have all God has planned for you, until you give it up.