The Bargain With the Redeemer

Metaphorical Narrative

In a quiet corner of childhood, a deal was made.

The child wanted something beautiful. Joy. Space. Attention. But a voice stood at the gate.

It wore long robes. It spoke like a redeemer. It said, “You may take… but you must pay.”

So the child learned to bargain:

“Please let me enjoy this… I’ll suffer for it later.” “Let me win this time… I promise to lose next time.” “Let me shine… I’ll dim myself after.”

The voice agreed. And the child survived — one trade at a time.

Years pass. The voice remains. It now guards success, rest, abundance, pride. And still demands payment.

But one day, the adult stops. Looks the Redeemer in the eye. And says: “I owe you nothing. I revoke the deal.”

The robes fall. The gate opens. The child — now whole — walks free.

Insight

The Redeemer Voice is not a guide — it’s a spiritual extortionist.

It trains you to believe that joy must be paid for. That every success needs balancing with failure. That you can only take space if you sacrifice something sacred in return.

This voice seems noble. It calls itself humble. Balanced. Fair. But it runs on scarcity logic.

The child inside once learned to survive by making deals:

• I’ll give up rest if I can feel loved.
• I’ll fail later if I can succeed today.
• I’ll dim myself after I shine — just don’t take it all away.

But you’re no longer a child. You don’t need to bargain for your own bigness. There is no cosmic tax on joy.

Saturday Experiment

Catch the deal as it tries to form.

Any time you feel yourself negotiating internally — “If I rest now, I’ll work extra tomorrow…” “If I feel proud, something bad will happen soon…” “If I win, I better not enjoy it too much…”

Pause.

Ask:

• Who’s enforcing this deal?
• What price am I unconsciously preparing to pay?

Then say clearly: “No deal. I owe nothing. I receive without sacrifice.”

Watch what falls away.

Sunday Reflection Prompt (3rd person)

• What old deals have they made to survive moments of joy, success, or expansion?
• Where do they still believe that something must be lost for anything to be gained?
• What would it mean to live from a place of undeserved joy — not as a bargain, but as a birthright?