A newly adopted child found himself in a big mansion. His new Father whispered in his ear, “This is yours and you have a right to be here. I have made you a joint heir with My only begotten Son. He paid the price that set you free from your old taskmaster, who was cruel and condemning. I purchased it for you, because I love you.” The young boy couldn’t help but question this incredible gift. It seems too good to be true. What did I do to deserve this? – He wondered. I have been a slave all my life, and I have done nothing to earn such a privilege!
He was deeply grateful, however, and began to explore all the rooms in the mansion. He tried out some of the tools and appliances. There were many other people in the mansion who also had been adopted. He began to form new relationships with his adopted brothers and sisters. He especially enjoyed the buffet table from which he freely ate. Then it happened! While turning away from the buffet table, he knocked over a stack of glasses and a valuable pitcher that crashed to the floor and broke. Suddenly he began to think – You clumsy, stupid kid! You will never get away with this. What right do you have to be here? You had better hide before someone finds out, because they will surely throw you out.
At first he was caught up in the wonder of living in the mansion with a whole new family and a loving Father, but now he was confused. Old memories from early childhood began to replay in his mind. He was filled with guilt and shame. Who do you think you are? Some kind of privileged character? You don’t belong here anymore; you belong in the basement! The old taskmaster was right about me, I don’t belong here. So he descended into the basement.
The cellar was dreary, dark and despairing. The only light came from the open door at the crest of the long stairs. He heard his Father calling for him, but he was too ashamed to answer. He was surprised to find others in the basement. Upstairs everybody talked to each other and participated in fun and meaningful daily projects. Nobody talked to each other in the basement. They were too ashamed. Most basement dwellers felt that they really belonged in the basement anyway.
Those in the basement didn’t like the basement, but they didn’t see how they could ever walk in the light again. If they did, others would see their imperfections. Old friends occasionally came to the door and encouraged them to return upstairs where a place was prepared for them. Some “friends” were worse than others and scolded those in the basement, which only made it worse. Not everybody stayed in the basement for the same reason. Some thought like the child did, I deserve to be here. I was given a chance, but I blew it. Others didn’t think they could climb the stairs. Even if they mustered up the strength to try, the stairs would probably break under their weight. They always had a reason why they couldn’t return to their Father upstairs. Some would return for a short time, but they didn’t stay long enough to resolve their conflicts and learn the truth that would enable them to stay. So they returned. Still others were afraid that they would not be accepted. Their old taskmaster didn’t accept them, so how could they expect this adoptive parent to welcome them back after what they had done?
At first, the newly adopted child groped around in the darkness, trying to find a way to survive. The longer he stayed in the basement, the more his memory of living upstairs began to fade, and so did his hope of ever returning. Those old childhood memories questioned the love of this new Father, and he began to question whether he was ever adopted in the first place. The noise of people having fun upstairs irritated him. He remembered the light upstairs being warm and inviting, but now it was penetrating and revealing. He recalled hearing his adopted Father say, “Men loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that his deeds will be exposed” (John 3:19-20, NIV).
He made a few halfhearted attempts to return to the light, but eventually he found a dark corner to lie down in. To survive he ate grubs and moss off the damp walls. Then one day a shaft of light penetrated his mind and reason returned. He began to think, Why not throw myself on the mercy of this person who calls Himself my Father? What do I have to lose? Even if He makes me eat the crumbs that fall from the table, it would be better than this.
He decided to take the risk of climbing those stairs and face his Father with the truth of what he had done. “Lord,” he said, “I knocked over some glasses and broke a pitcher.” Without saying a word, his Father took him by the hand and led him into the dining room. To his utter amazement his Father had prepared for him a banquet. “Welcome home,” his Father said. “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1, NIV).
Oh the deep, deep love of Jesus, and the matchless grace of God. The door is always open for those who are willing to throw themselves upon the mercy of God. “In love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with His pleasure and will—to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves” (Ephesians 1:4-6, NIV). God doesn’t want us to live self-condemned in the basement. He wants us to know that we are seated with Christ in the heaven-lies as joint heirs with Jesus: “Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and coheirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory” (Romans 8:17, NIV).
Source: Overcoming Depression by Neil Anderson