You Can't Take the Sky from Me

I was thinking this morning about the symbols of freedom that we use every day. The cliched American flag and Eagle have been flipped in meaning, to a certain extent, by the social movements of the 70's and the overall dissilusionment of my generation. I also thought more generally of symbols that people choose personally. Some people may see freedom as a motorcycle and an open road, while others see it as a camper or a sailboat. Often freedom is a mode of transportation, taking us from here to there, from a place of confinement to a place of release. Many people, whether they acknowledge it or not, think of money as a type of freedom. Freedom from debt, from hunger, from want. Jesus warns us that the very thing that we think is freedom, however, can actually trap us. We cannot serve two masters, and money is a hard master. I admit that I slip into that trap quite often. If only I had more money, I wouldn't worry about anything. Yeah, except I would worry about losing the money. Trust is a place that lacks condition, I've learned. The best place to be to trust is not a place of security but a place of utter helplessness. Last week I experienced that peace which passes understanding briefly and I pray that God would restore me to that place. It is a place of such total desperation that you let go of everything and God gladly takes it up. It seems hard to imagine when you haven't lived it, but believe me, it was beautiful. The trick we Americans have to learn is not to be self-sufficient but to instead be so dependant on God that all our stuff is no longer important.
Everybody has holes in their hearts, lack that has yet to be filled. If we did not, there would be no room for God. I thought that the lack had to be filled by external provision. I lack love; God should send me friends, I am afraid; God should send me someone to guard me. Not at all true, in reality where I lack, God wants to pour himself inside. It's as if my life is a jigsaw puzzle missing most of the pieces. I try to push the pieces in to fill the holes, but they never fit right. God fills the holes better than anything I can try to push in because he pours Himself in to fill the mould. He's the only one who's faithful to me. I suppose that's freedom.