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The God We Imagine: When Lies Become Bondage


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The first prison cell had no bars—just a question mark. In Eden's garden, freedom died not from force but from a footnote: "Did God really say...?" The serpent's genius wasn't in chains but in confusion, not in power but in perspective.


The Lie That Binds


A broken image of God keeps people in bondage more than demons ever could.


That's the enemy's oldest trick. In the garden, the serpent didn't begin with power—he began with a suggestion. "Did God really say…?"


It was a narrative. A lens. A way of seeing God that sowed suspicion: maybe He's withholding, maybe He can't be trusted, maybe He doesn't want what's best for you.

That single distorted image became the seedbed of bondage. When we believe a lie, we empower the liar.


In fifteen years of walking people through deliverance—from clinical practice to ministry rooms—I've discovered the enemy's most effective weapon isn't possession but perception.


The Parable of Perception


This same dynamic unfolds in Jesus' parable of the talents. The servant who buried his gift explained his failure in one chilling line: "I knew you to be a hard man."


Notice—it wasn't laziness that destroyed him. It was his god image. He believed his master was harsh, demanding, impossible to please. And that lie shaped his entire posture. Fear led to hiding. Shame led to paralysis.


Bondage isn't just chains around the wrists. It's the lens over the eyes.


When Jesus Shows Up Differently


One woman I worked with had struggled with bulimia since high school, when she was rejected and kicked out of her lunch table. The shame drove her to hide in bathroom stalls, where her eating disorder took root in secrecy and self-hatred.


During a healing encounter, something extraordinary happened: she saw Jesus waiting outside the bathroom door. Not demanding entry, not impatient, but simply... waiting. His patience itself was disarming. When she finally said yes, He came in and sat on the floor beside her.


She was overwhelmed—not by condemnation, but by the realization that the God of all creation seemed to have nowhere else He'd rather be than on that dirty bathroom floor that had come to define her shame. In that moment, her whole image of God shifted. The rejection that had labeled her for years began to dissolve, because she encountered a God who pursued her into her darkest hiding place not to condemn, but to companion.


Her bulimia didn't just improve—it lost its power entirely. Because the lie that fed it—that she was rejected, hidden, alone—couldn't survive in the presence of such radical acceptance.


Think about that. The very God who calls Himself Abba and Bridegroom gets misperceived as aloof or annoyed. The enemy doesn't just torment with fear—he plants a counterfeit portrait of God and then hides behind it.


Cultural Captivity


And it doesn't stop with individuals. When entire communities live from a broken God-image, culture itself becomes discipled by fear. In a culture that profits from fear—where social media algorithms feed on anxiety and news cycles thrive on threat—the church has often joined the panic instead of modeling peace. We've become more fluent in the devil's playbook than in the Father's promises.


Churches become more focused on avoiding curses than proclaiming blessings, more obsessed with the devil's schemes than with the Father's promises. What we believe about God will always shape the way we live before Him.


The Path to Freedom


That's why deliverance isn't first about casting something out—it's about seeing Someone rightly. Deliverance is not primarily the removal of darkness—it's the restoration of sight.


To see God rightly is to see yourself rightly. And when you see yourself as beloved, not barely tolerated, fear begins to unravel.


As both a psychologist and pastor, I've learned that healing happens not just in the mind or just in the spirit, but in the intersection—where therapeutic insight meets theological truth, where clinical understanding serves spiritual breakthrough.


The True Image


The truth is simple but staggering:


●      God is not distant—He draws near.

●      He is not disinterested—He numbers your hairs.

●      He is not disappointed—He delights in you.


And here's the surprise Jesus slips into His parables: the Master isn't just "fair" with His servants—He is shockingly generous. In Luke's account, He doesn't reward faithful stewardship with a polite "thank you." He gives cities. Whole territories. Authority far beyond what anyone expected.


The Great Revelation


The bad servant imagined a hard man and buried his life in fear. But the faithful ones discovered something breathtaking: the Master was far better, far more generous, far more invested in their flourishing than they ever dared believe.


That's the scandal of the Gospel. The enemy whispers that God is harsh. But Jesus reveals that the Father is lavish.


The Practice of Right Seeing


Try this simple recalibration: For one week, when fear whispers "God is distant," pause and declare aloud: "My Father draws near to me" (James 4:8). Don't wait to feel it—speak truth into the lie. The goal isn't positive thinking; it's training your soul to recognize the Father's voice over the impostor's.


This week, audit your God-image. Notice what emotions arise when you think about approaching Him in prayer. If it's primarily fear, duty, or performance anxiety, you've found your battlefield. The enemy's lie has become your lens.


The Choice Before Us


The only question left is: which image of God will shape the way you live?


Will you live from the serpent's whispered suspicion—that God might be holding out on you? Or will you live from the Son's shouted declaration—that the Father's heart toward you is nothing but good?


But here's the good news: Jesus came not just to forgive your sins but to reveal the Father's heart. And His heart toward you is nothing but good.


The prison door isn't locked from the outside. It's held shut by what we believe about the One who holds the keys.


And the truth? He's been waiting to set you free all along—even if that means sitting with you on the bathroom floor until you're ready to believe it.


"Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free." - John 8:32



For deeper dives into these themes, check out my book "Big God, Little Devil" and connect with me at drseantobin.ca or on social @drseantobin.


 
 
 

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