My Box

This is a paper I had to write for English......

John Donne once said, “We are all conceived in close prison; in our mothers’ wombs, we are close prisoners all; when we are born, we are born but to the liberty of the house; prisoners still, though within larger walls.” Every single one of us in this earth are born prisoners but the question is, to what? We all live in a box, some big and some small. What is that box? What constitutes our house of morals? What is the foundation, walls, and ceiling of our ethics? What is the box that defines us? What are the walls that hold us and make us who we are? Yes, we are born into freedom but is there such a thing as freedom within a prison, freedom within a box? As I ask l myself these questions I must say that my box is the closest thing I have to freedom because it is truth. Some people, when they understand my box may say it’s pretty small. Some people may think, by looking from the outside in that I’m not free at all but, when I look from the inside out, this box is the only thing that frees me.

The foundation of my box is Jesus Christ and Him alone. He is solid and never changing. He remains the same yesterday, today, and forever. Without Christ, who is the very foundation of my box, I am nothing. Some people may say that living like this is a sign of how weak I am as a human and they are one- hundred percent correct because in and of myself, there is no good thing. Because of the foundation of my box I am rooted and built up and established in the faith with much joy. Because of my box I am who I am, because of Christ in me and the judgment and mercy of the cross He bore.


The walls of my box are the Body of Christ, His people. They are the saints of God, the called out ones, chosen to be a holy habitation for Him. They represent gold, silver, and precious stones that will be able to endure the hottest fire. They are living blocks being fitly joined together. Each person in my life are the blocks of my walls that help make up and protect me. The walls of my box are a protection from anyone or anything that would try to cheat me through philosophy, empty deceit, and every wind of doctrine.


I was conceived in close prison, in the prison of myself and this world, held captive to the flesh, a slave to sin. This box is the closest thing I have to freedom and the only thing that entangles me is this flesh and this body. The ceiling of my box is the hope of Christ’s coming. In this box I groan, being burdened, because I want to be but further clothed in righteousness that my mortality may be swallowed up by life. Yes, I am in this world but I am not of it, a stranger simply passing through. My mortality is waiting to put on immortality. I embrace surrender to Christ. In this box I await regeneration. I am longing to be complete in Him, to be made complete and perfect in Christ. In this box my soul longs and travails for the coming of Christ when this dead is quickened. The ceiling of this box causes my soul to wait for eternity. It turns my eyes up and focuses them on the prize, an imperishable crown. In this box I wait and look to the ceiling with certainty. I fight not as one who beats the air, but this box causes me to discipline my body and bring it into subjection with the Truth.


This box is my life. I guess you could say that in this box I live in a prison of freedom but yet at the same time I am a slave to righteousness. Because of this box I cannot apologize nor compromise to appease others. My box doesn’t allow me to change or stretch its borders to fit in with others. It remains the same, never changing. One day of my life is an example of how my box comes into play. I wake up in the morning and the only thing that gets me out of bed is knowing that no matter what happens I’m called to walk like Christ which means that I have to die to what I want and get up. I go to school and this is where my box comes into play the most. Every day I have a choice to live by the standards of my box or not to. There have been times where I have forced myself out of those limits; times where I have compromised my box and tried to stretched its borders. The times where I haven’t spoken when I’m supposed to, the times where I haven’t been compassionate towards people or overlooked them, the times where I’ve lowered my standards. It’s those times that I regret. It’s like trying to breathe underwater because I’m trying to force myself to live and walk somewhere that I do not belong. It’s those times that show me that I do not have true life outside of my box because the moment I step out of it I become imprisoned to the world. I am in my box, in Christ, in fellowship with His people, all awaiting the day when He returns. So here I come to an end quoting John Donne: “We are all conceived in close prison; in our mothers’ wombs, we are close prisoners all; when we are born, we are born but to the liberty of the house; prisoners still, though within larger walls.” This box as a whole contains life, the life that only comes from Christ. It is in this box where I live and move and have my being.