Freedom. This word has been literally been said, yelled, spoken, and sung since we celebrated America’s birthday last week. We spent the 4th with friends who are like family here at our duty station in Washington. We have been blessed to find really wonderful community and fellowship with people who love Jesus as much as we do every place we’ve moved. I’m thankful for the freedom we have to celebrate America and, even more so, for the freedom to celebrate our love for Christ when others around the world cannot.

Sometimes, though, Freedom makes me mourn. There are times when I mourn the loss of freedom I’ve experienced since becoming a mom. Every time I go somewhere alone and it takes me less than 13 minutes to get out of my car and walk into a building, a very small twinge of mourning happens. Not because I wish I didn’t have these small people to wrestle in to strollers and chase across parking lots, but because I just didn’t even realize how much freedom I had back when I got to take escalators instead of bumping people in wheelchairs (not on purpose…) with my double stroller in elevators.

Currently I’m training (ever so slowly) for a half marathon. And around 4 miles I stopped running with my kids in the stroller. Which means I have to run in the evenings when my husband gets home. I would absolutely run in the morning, except the Army and David’s current job have him waking up at 4:30 every single morning. And since I’m slow (I’m talking take a geriatric mile time and double it….that’s maaayyybbeeee my mile time) that means I would have to wake up BEFORE 4:30 IN THE MORNING to get my miles in. And that will just never happen ever. And I know I could run with my children. But 1. They are heavy. Sooooo heavy. Even with our super nice jogging stroller. And 2. I just want freeeddoooommmm. I don’t want to stop and give snacks or pick up pacifiers tossed on the side walk. I want to run and think and complain to myself and listen to music with my only care being if I can finish my run without having to stop and pee in the bushes…

Freedom has been a resounding prayer of mine lately. “Lord grant me Freedom.” See, I have some hard relationships. Particularly one very hard relationship that I have granted the freedom to control my mood, my emotions, and my thoughts. And so it’s with even more desperation than not wanting to push a stroller while running that I have been begging the Lord for freedom.

Over the last several days I had two very dear friends sit and cry with me over the Freedom I’ve handed away. And I phrase it this way for two reasons. First, because no one can actually control your mood, your emotions, or your thoughts. You have to give them permission to do that. And second, Christ came to set the captives free (see Luke 14). My sweet friends spoke truth into my life. They reminded me that true Freedom is from Christ. This freedom extends beyond the freedoms we so aptly enjoy because we live in the country we do. This freedom means that were we to live in a country that stripped us of our rights to vote, our rights to drive, to read, to do anything without permission, we could still find Freedom in Christ because no matter where I am- I am no longer a captive.

And here I’ve been. Staring at my Freedom and then handing it away as though it meant nothing. Giving in to my own mind and lies over and over again. Trading truth and life for shackles and pain. And justifying it through my fickle and ever changing feelings.

I’m not saying that after I write this I won’t need to cry actual tears and beg the Lord for Freedom anymore- that will be ongoing. Because my heart isn’t made for this world. And this world is hard and scary and unknown. And honestly, I just love to cry. But I do know that to experience true Freedom my heart has to belong to one who already broken the chains that I bind myself with.

Freedom from doubt. Freedom from fear. Freedom from anxiety. Freedom from anger. Freedom from lies. Freedom from unmet expectations. Friends, we have it all. My prayer tonight is that I can lay down my chains so I can be bound to the giver of Life in whom victory is found.

Also. God bless America. Just saying.

Photo by Kristen Fondon Photography:

One thought on “Freedom

  1. What a blessing to my soul. These are words of truth! I pray freedom for both of us from sin, Satan, and all that he wants to accomplish. Specifically as he uses others in our lives for his purpose and not Christ’s.
    As tears blur my eyes, Love you friend and miss you already.


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