The truth is I’m one of the weirdos who enjoys being an
adult. I like cooking whatever I feel like eating for dinner and staying up
late and planning vacations and choosing where to live and what to buy. Even as
hard as it is sometimes, I like being in charge of my own life. I like being free. Independent.
It might be easier to lack responsibility, but I wouldn’t
trade my freedom for the dependence that comes with unaccountability. Boundaries,
though often necessary, are only worthwhile when you can trust the source from
which they come. There are few sources that I trust with such a power. The only
good boundaries come from a place of love.
I often wonder what kind of world my children will grow up
in. Will they experience freedom in the same way I have? Do I experience the
same level of freedom that my grandparents did? Blood has been shed over
securing the right to freedom, and yet there are those who would be so quick to
relinquish it for the very little they think they might gain.
From where one person stands, it’s hard to gauge freedom as
it has been experienced in different times and distant places, but it’s clear
that the world is changing – because it always has been. It morphs into
something new with each passing moment, and it often feels as though there is
little we can do to impact how it changes.
We can, however, choose the sources that we trust. And we
can fight for what we know is ours.
The choices that we make – they are only made possible by
the fact that we are free to make
them.
I put Hannah down for her nap a while ago, and as I typed
this post, I heard “Jesus Loves Me” coming from the other room. She has a stuffed
lamb that plays it, and she was winding it up over and over, listening to the
music until she fell asleep. It told me that she's at peace with her source of love and
boundaries.
There is so much liberation in that.