What limits could I place upon the Son of God?
1. He whom God created limitless is free.I
²I may imagine that I imprison him, but only in illusions—not in truth.
³No Thought of God has ever left the Mind of its Father.
⁴No Thought of God is limited in any way.
⁵No Thought of God can ever cease to be eternally pure.
⁶How could I place limits upon the Son of God, when his Father willed that he be limitless, and equal to Him in freedom and in Love?
2. Father,
²today I will honor Your Son,
for only thus do I find the way that leads to You.
³Father,
today I will not impose limits upon the Son You love,
and whom You created limitless.
⁴The honor I give to him belongs to You,
and all that is Yours is mine as well.
I Today I will give myself a rest from myself. I will stop listening to me.
And indeed, when I look closely, it is astonishing how much importance I grant to my own thoughts. Some random notion arises, I consider it, let myself be hypnotized by it, and allow any foolish idea to occupy my holy mind and settle in my heart.
How can I fear what comes from outside, when I have already let in through the back door a dangerous madman who pretends to tell me who I am and what everything I see means? That impostor is my ego, ever eager to spin false stories that rob me of peace.
Today I will not fear the world nor illusion, but I will watch that deceitful voice within me and will not let its lies govern me.
The lesson proclaims: “What limits could I lay upon God’s Son?” He whom God created limitless is free. I may imagine that I have imprisoned him in a specific definition—my body, my age, my personal history—but that happens only in illusion. The truth is that no thought of God is limited or subject to change, and I am a thought of God.
To define is to limit. The word comes from the Latin definire, “to set boundaries.” Every time I say “I am this” or “I am that,” I am in fact reducing the limitless to a label. And although it is inevitable to function in this world through definitions—name, profession, role, nationality—these are not my truth. They are merely a practical way of communicating here.
The problem is that I end up believing them. I believe I am that definition, that my limits are real. And the more I cling to that belief, the smaller, frailer, and more mortal I feel. Jesus reminds me today that this is not true—that I cannot be both a limited person and the limitless Son of God. Honesty demands I acknowledge it: when I define myself as “someone,” I am denying myself as the Son of God.
What, then, am I to do? It is not a matter of renouncing my external definitions all at once—that would only fill me with fear—but of believing in them a little less. To say, “Yes, I am this or that,” on the human level, but not to give it so much credit. To make it less important. To practice disbelief.
Each time I lessen my faith in my own definitions, I expand my inner space and draw nearer to the experience of my true freedom. The practice begins with something as simple as this: not taking myself so seriously all the time.
Father, today I do not wish to limit Your Son with my small definitions.
Remind me that I am as unlimited as You, and that all freedom is already within me.
Amen.