Now planes are nice, but what I really like is to fly through the air with my own body, all by myself, under my own power. I have recurring flying dreams - have had them since I was a child. I believe all of us are born with this same kind of inner urge, some soul-cry for freedom, a deep longing that we cannot adequately express in our everyday, mundane lives. And if you look closely, I believe all of us will find evidence of it seeping through in our subconscious, our uncensored words, our day and/or night dreams, our playtime activities, in fact, any time we let our guard down and allow our childlike ability to unabashedly desire great things take hold for a just a moment.
You know how kids are…they will just outright ask you for what they want, no matter how ridiculous it sounds to the rational adult mind. Like chocolate cake for breakfast, or staying up all night to watch the stars, or sending their favorite toy to a poor child in Africa, or learning to fly by donning a blanket cape and jumping from a rooftop. They are not afraid to ask. To dream. To desire. To wish.
And one of my greatest dreams is to be free, untethered, not tied down to this motley earth with its restrictions, its festering sickness of decay, and its gravitational pull towards mediocrity and self-centeredness. Yech!
So I fly…up, up and away, facing the sky, free from fear, worry, pain, and law. But really, how much freedom can I experience in my everyday life as I toil, eat, sleep, and interact with other less than perfect beings, all inflicted with the same malady of sin? Way more than I ever thought possible, I am discovering. Having just read through Galatians again, I was struck by the adamant insistence of Paul (the author) that the great gift of grace that Jesus procured at incredible cost was for FREEDOM, and we so easily toss this gift aside for the four confining walls of rigid righteous regulations. Is that what really makes a person good? Doing the right things? Sticking to a diet of bland “safe” activities? Bah!
Putting on the appearance of righteousness is nothing, nor is being seen to have the appearance of evil – neither has any substance. The only thing that matters is if we have indeed under gone the metamorphosis from a dead soul into one who has had the breath of God infused into their spirit. Everything else is still death. Bondage. Restriction. Out of the realm of love. And I am tired of residing in that substandard claustrophobic state.
As you can tell by my rambling, somewhat random thoughts here, I am still working through this freedom thing, but I have climbed onto the roof, clutched a bright red cape in my left hand, and begun to edge my feet closer to the edge. And having seen the wide open expanse in front of me, I will not turn back.