Free Hearts

I have a winged-heart pendant that I found at a lil shop for about $5. I wear it almost everyday, like if I wear it I'll be more free. Like I'll be showing the world that my heart isn't tied down, that I'm not attached. Not attached to what, you may ask?

That's where I would pause and think for a moment.

You see, the most common idea is that your heart is free from people, but that's not what I want. I want to love and serve my friends and family with all my heart. I don't want to hold back from them.

Yet everything in me yearns for freedom. Like the urge to just get into the middle of nowhere and just run on a wooded track, an open field, the beach... to swim laps up the coast, to dive down deep and lay on the bottom of the pool... to lay on the roof at night and watch the stars. I want to feel a part of the bigness and deepness and fullness of this world.

I want to feel invulnerable to the influences of the powers... I want poisonous media images not to infect me, I want vile name-calling political campaigns to bounce off like a rubber ball... I want to walk with wisdom, not objectivity, since I'm not sure that exists in an individual, but collectively.

I want to let go of my fears... fear of being rejected, fear of being inadequate, fears so big and dark and deep the ocean could fill them... they stab at me in the night, they eat at me in the day. I'm getting better at shrugging them off, pushing them away.

There is something precious in freedom that's fragile and subtle, and there is something ferocious in freedom that bites and barks and refuses to be satisfied. The Yearning for Freedom can come from desperation, like Jenny in Forest Gump, "Dear God, make me a bird, so I can fly far, far, far away from here."

Other times, it is this urge deep inside us not to be attached to things... I went to Mablethorpe on the coast of the North Sea, and at a midnight bonfire, I wandered down the long coast to the water in the middle of the night, in the darkness. I couldn't see anything, it was black on black, with the sand meeting the water meeting the darkness. The wind brushed my face the way that sea breezes do. I stared out into the expanse of the sea, and the Holy Darkness met me. It was like the 3rd day of Creation, me and God's face hovering over the expanse of the waters. It reminded me of Psalm 139: 7-12

Where can I go from your spirit?
   Or where can I flee from your presence? 
If I ascend to heaven, you are there;
   if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there. 
If I take the wings of the morning
   and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, 
even there your hand shall lead me,
   and your right hand shall hold me fast. 
If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me,
   and the light around me become night’, 
even the darkness is not dark to you;
   the night is as bright as the day,
   for darkness is as light to you. 

God surely is in the darkness for I felt Him there... I felt so terrifyingly free there.

Freedom from this world, from fear, from anxiety and worry and social pressures is what God calls us to. He wants us to experience this freedom of throwing all of our love into our community, but not being bound by the results. To be invested, but not enslaved. I am convinced the answer is NOT to be indifferent, but to be so grounded in God's love and power, that you can be careless with your heart. It is nestled safely under the shadow of his wings, so you can spread this love around your community lavishly. I am trying to learn the discipline of freedom. I feel like this is going to be a long journey.