It’s such an ironic word, really.
Free.
I mean, it’s kind of crazy how many things that word is used for.
– The cardboard box of used tupperware at the far end of every garage sale…
– The latest BOGO deal at the mall…
– Everything that’s not in the sugar-free, fat-free, calorie-free, nutrition-free, chemically sweetened beverage I used to drink…
– The way we are so unbelievably privileged to live life here in America…
– And then there is the even deeper free. The soul free.
Maybe I’m nuts, but it seems to me that—except for maybe the tupperware—none of those free things are even close to being free. And those last two have required blood, sweat, tears, and possibly a bit of insanity on the part of anyone who has pursued them.
I cannot begin to imagine the sacrifices people made a couple hundred years ago to help create this free piece of the world we call America. I feel an obligation to use my freedom well.
Sometimes I wish I could just find someone who would sign up to do the fighting and bleeding for my soul freedom too. Actually, I guess I believe that ultimately someone has done that, but I also happen to know that there is a lot of fighting and bleeding that I have to do for myself if I want to truly experience the deepest free.
So that’s where I am right now. It’s where I’ve been for the last ten years of my life. Fighting, bleeding, working, waiting, pressing, losing, holding, moving, crying, releasing, and surrounding myself with others who know what it’s like to go after free with all of their heart.
It’s exhausting. Sometimes excruciating. But something really annoying inside tells me it’s worth it—because once you’ve tasted even a little bit of free, you kind of aren’t satisfied with anything less. And so I press on.
Here’s to the journey to freedom. And hopefully a few good friends and fireworks along the way.
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