Freedom is leaving work early on a Wednesday night not to return, or think about, or communicate with anyone from work for seven days.
Freedom is knowing that I have a plan for when I get back and consciously refusing to think or worry about what I could be doing.
Freedom is being trapped in a car for a couple thousand miles with your now-adult family – the whiny, fighting of siblings morphed into grown-up quirks and political arguments. The parents who once cared about “making good time” now stopping every hour to stretch aging limbs and find the nearest restroom. Freedom is letting the tension and frustration float away because these are the ones who love me the most and will always be mine.
Freedom is waking up sore from the air mattress and cold from the room’s dampness, to be greeted by clear sunshine pouring through the window, and French-pressed coffee in the kitchen.
Freedom is feeling dizzy from the altitude and exhausted from the hike, breathing deeply of mountain air and having no agenda except to explore God’s creation.
Freedom is sweat soaking through clothes from scorching sunshine, cringing as my father loudly explains every single play of the baseball game to my sister, smiling because he is enjoying his Father’s day gift.
Freedom is spending every evening on the rooftop, eyes glued to the Western sun, watching for the new hues, cloud patterns, new glory.
Freedom is the soaring pointed windows of a military chapel and seeing a retired veteran re-finding his peace there
Freedom is reading a book simply for pleasure and having it cover unexpected and relevant topics which expand my thinking
Freedom is coming back from vacation and choosing to write into my calendar the plans of next week. Plans and experiments that would have made my mind tired just a week ago, now make my heart flutter again with excitement.
Freedom in its truest form is knowing that I am firmly bounded by the will of Christ. My job, my vacation, my relationships, my self may seem to bind or free me. But true freedom is found in Christ alone, and here I rest, floating content and free.