Freedom

             It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery. (Galatians 6:1)

 

            I don’t remember what I was thinking about, but I suspect it had to do with upcoming changes and how my life is abnormal. Things would be easier if I’d just settle into a normal routine, get a normal job, normal hobbies… a normal life. And while this verse didn’t come to mind, the idea of this verse did. I’m free.

            I saw a cartoon strip eons ago of a woman standing on one side of a pit. I don’t remember the progression exactly, but it moved generally from I can’t…can I?...I can’t…I will… and eventually she leaps to the other side. She raises her hands in victory. “I did it!” In the next panel, she’s buried her face in her hands as she weeps, “What have I done?”

            We’ve probably all heard the claim that some ex-cons commit crimes to get put in prison, because they discover that they can’t cope with freedom. As I thought about it this afternoon, one of the ideas that came to mind is that freedom isn’t being without a care, without a need, without a problem. It’s not having so much money that you don’t have to think about paying bills. I think I’ve said before that freedom is more like being able to let go of the wall at the ice rink.

            The interesting thing is that last spring, I think I reached the point where I felt the same way. It was several weeks before I moved north, but the way I thought of it at the time was that I was ready to go home. There were still things left to do, but they were minor details. Maybe it’s just that I’ve gotten past the “Hurry Up. Not Yet” time, but I think there’s more to it than that. It’s the freedom of letting go. It’s like forgiving. It allows you to move. And as I think about it, one of the reasons it may have hit today is because I’d realized last night that the last of the shawls I wanted to make for Holiday Blessings was “this close” to being done. Or maybe it’s because I’ve started packing, cleaning, and closing down the house. I’d already been working on the closing down the garden, but today, I worked on the basement, my guest bedroom/storage room, and my bedroom. It’s getting real.

            Freedom has to do with letting go. That doesn’t mean only letting go of bad things, but also good ones. Sometimes, freedom involves letting go of things we feel we need to hold on to. That’s because freedom is not just about letting go, but about trusting and reaching out for something - possibly for the unknown. First, of course, we need to trust God. Sometimes, we need to trust others. Sometimes, it’s about trusting ourselves. I spent several weeks over the past couple of months agonizing about whether I’m doing the right thing. Should I stop this and find some way to do normal? Within that there is the question of whether I could survive going back to the way I lived before Dad’s dementia got bad enough that I had to leave it. Oh, it might not be as bad now, or it might be worse. But was that what I was supposed to do?

            I think I’ve gotten my answer. It’s time. I’m ready, even if there are still things to do. It’s time to jump the next pit.