Freedom

I was walking back from the store tonight, two bags of groceries in hand, a cold wind whipping by, and ineffective shoes. The holes in my jeans were acting as air vents, and my two sizes too big sweatshirt kept flying up with ever little breeze. I was cold, tired, five blocks from home and... happy.

 

The other day I had a memory: when I was young, I used to say that I wanted to live by myself, in a studio, in some city. Hmmm... I guess dreams do come true.

Moving here was so hard. So painful. It seemed like it was just going to be another step to survive. Another break I had to endure as I scratched my way out of choices I had made without making any at all. The first few months were brutal. Lonely for sure, but just brutal. Overwhelming, and it still is, but now it's different. It's getting better. I walk from here to there alone and okay. I look around my small little place and think "I am doing it." I am struggling through. 

Mike came last week. For two days before he came my stomach was in knots. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, and I didn't even know why. I just knew I was having a hard time. I knew I was scared. 

When he got here, it took me two full days to get myself back to normal; to acclimate to him again. He saw it too, and the most incredible thing happened: he understood. He got it. He romanced, and loved on me in ways I thought were too good to be true. He spoke to my heart... he saw heart. Few have ever done that. Well, to be honest, I don't know anyone that ever has, ever. I love my friends and family, but few have ever seen in me what I have always wanted seen, but would never put forth and he did, or does I should say. 

But still, it took a few days for me to even get a grip on why I was so freaked out before he came. Then as I was talking with my mom, it really started to sink in. Most successes in my life have been fragile. They have been halfway and I have always waited for them to fall apart. I have never trusted the strength that God has breathed into me. And the times I had, the times I was so excited about something, few understood the importance of. 

When I was married to my ex, I worked hard to meld my life to his. It was easy, I was young, and it was hard, I was strong, but I did it. Independence and individuality were sacrificed on the alter of his need. I could never surpass him. What I didn't know, was that I already had, and that was why we struggled so much. So when Mike was coming out here, I was so scared. How could I expect him to be happy for me building a life that was 3,000 miles away from him? How could I expect him to understand how important this is to me? To succeed at this, to own this to do this, and do it alone? It doesn't depend on him, it doesn't have anything to do with him, it isn't about him, how would it be possible for him to be happy for me in that? It seemed to much to ask. And I am still so fragile in it. So easily could it be wiped away for me. The joy in my fight through to this point, it can still be negated, it's still fresh. 

Then one night when he was here, he looked at me, and in the candlelight of a dinner he cooked (yeah, he cooks too), he took my hand and said "Baby I know there are things you need to do for you. I want you to do them. You need to do them. This is your second chance, and I am so proud of you." He placed his face in my hand and I cried... just a little. I saw his love so vividly. I feel it so wholly. There was freedom in his love. I didn't know that could exist. I thought loved stifled, I thought it controlled. It was so powerful, so pure.

I can't help but think is it possible this is the same kind of freedom Jesus gives me? So often I think if His love as rigid. Easily lost, easily violated. The famous 1 Corinthians chapter 13 is a way to love, not a description of His love right? Or wrong? Can love really trust that much? Can love really trust that much? Can it really heal and release? I have always feared that if I don't love blindly it isn't love, but here, here is something so different. A love that sees the risks, knows that I may never come back, but refuses to stifle me. The cuffs are off, the chains removed. Where do I go now?

Could it be that the freedom is even more frightening than the control? Yes. That's exactly right. I always thought I wanted Him to force me to love Him. He can't do that though can He? Thank God.