We are experts at building walls out of things that were meant to protect us.
In the first century, a man named Matthew built a wall out of coins. As a Jewish tax collector working for the Roman Empire, he traded his community, his religious standing, and his family for financial security. The outside world looked at him and hurled their heaviest labels: Traitor. Thief. Outcast. Sinner.
Matthew’s tax booth wasn’t just a place of business; it was a psychological prison. The walls were thick, the ledger of his past was heavy, and the labels defined exactly how far he was allowed to step. He had grown used to the chains.
But Matthew 9:9 records a moment that shattered that entire architecture in a single breath:
“As Jesus passed on from there, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax office, and he said to him, ‘Follow me.’ And he rose and followed him.”
Jesus didn’t address the labels the crowd used. He didn’t acknowledge the financial wall Matthew had built. He simply looked past the ledger, called his name, and said, “Arise.”
Many of us are still sitting in Matthew’s booth. We might not be collecting coins for Rome, but we have built our own walls to survive. We put on what I call the “Happy Face”—the ultimate mask that tells the world we are fine, while inside, our true selves are vanishing into the shadows.
We hide behind years of shame, clinging to our sorrows, feeling like the pain and the rage we carry are forbidden to be spoken aloud. We feel fragile, like a delicate glass vase locked inside an iron cage, impaired by the hurtful words and heavy blows of life.
We wonder, Who am I? Do I even belong here?
We get so used to the labels—the ones handed to us by others and the ones we mistakenly accept as our own fault—that the prison begins to feel safe simply because it is predictable.
But the story doesn’t end in the shadows. Just like Matthew sitting behind his desk of coins, a moment comes when Love refuses to leave us hidden.
Healing doesn’t happen because we suddenly find the strength to stand up, fix ourselves, and walk out of the prison. It happens because the Light of Love steps right into the darkness, walks straight into our quarantine, and finds us curled up on the floor.
He brings a peace that radiates from above. And with a hand extended and a quiet whisper, He gives us a key to unlock the cage of everything that has been penned against us.
When we finally dare to turn that key, something terrifying and beautiful happens: the old container shatters. The delicate, restricted glass vase flies apart under the strain of the ugliness it was never meant to hold.
That shattering isn’t our destruction; it is our deliverance.
When the old walls collapse, the labels lose their anchor points. One by one, the dirty black spots of our past, our shame, and our pain fall to the floor—to be remembered no more.
Jesus looks at the pieces of the old cage, looks directly into our eyes, and rewrites our identity just as He did for Matthew. He doesn’t see a collection of mistakes or a history of trauma. He looks at you with a loving smile and says:
“I make all things new, and you are worthwhile.”
You don’t have to carry the weight of what the world named you. You are allowed to rise up from the booth, leave the old ledgers behind, and step into the quiet freedom of being known by the One who calls you by name.
The Happy Face
All everyone saw was my happy face,
But inside was a heart as delicate as a thin glass vase.
Surrounding this glass vase was a cage,
The vase was full of pain and filled to the top with rage.
All the years of not being able to express the mental anguish,
I felt like I had begun to vanish.
Who am I, I wondered?
All through life I blundered.
It felt as if no one even cared,
With every hurtful word to every physical hit, I became more impaired.
The more I became hidden,
I felt forbidden.
Always hiding in the shadows,
Clinging on to my sorrows.
Not belonging,
The inevitable, I felt like I was only prolonging.
UNTIL …
In the far distance I heard a sound,
I tried to run, but I had been found.
A voice, He called my name,
The closer He came.
I tried to hide in the darkness,
The closer He came, I felt so worthless.
Hiding behind years of shame,
Only, I am to blame.
The closer He came bringing a light of love,
There was such a peace that radiated from above.
I didn’t have the strength to stand,
Curled up on the floor I felt a hand.
With just a whisper He told to me arise,
With tears in my eyes,
And my stomach in knots,
He began to wash away all my dirty black spots.
One by one they fell to the floor,
To be remembered no more.
My name He called and said, “follow Me”.
“I have so much for you to see”.
He took my hand,
And I began to understand.
He loves me more than I could possibly comprehend,
He gave me a key to unlock the cage of everything that was penned.
I unlocked the cage to my heart,
With the strain of all the ugliness, the glass shattered and flew apart.
He looked at me with a loving smile,
And said, “I make all things new, and you are worthwhile”.
© Deborah Seale Schnadelbach 2023
The Anchor Point 
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