Chasing Freedom
I play this game with my students called "Teacher Always Wins." It's purpose is to instill in them a few key life lessons.
1. Authority exists. It is not them.
2. Life isn't always fair.
3. Life doesn't always make sense.
4. They don't get to make the rules to life, they just get to play.
5. Win or lose, attitude matters.
The first time we play it, the students are greatly offended. I throw a rubber playground ball to them, and then the fun begins. I make up random rules, and reward random things, which are then used against others. Ultimately, every student is eventually kicked out of the game. "You threw the ball too hard." "You didn't throw hard enough." "You're wearing pink." "I haven't thrown the ball to you yet." "You let the ball bounce before catching it." "You didn't let the ball bounce first." "I don't like neon."
After playing one or two times, the game oddly becomes the class's favorite game. EVERY YEAR. They can't get enough of it, and it makes them laugh and laugh. They dream about getting to be the one in charge of the game. But of course, that's against my rules too. To a generation who is used to there not being a winner or loser in their sports games, because the adults think it will hurt their self esteem and to a young people who are raised getting trophies for showing up, I think it's oddly satisfying to them, to know that someone won't give them what they want, that there are adults who will still say "No," or "Here's the line. Don't cross it."
I used to think that as an adult, I could do whatever I wanted, so long as it didn't compromise my income, break the law or infringe on the rights of others. George Bush Sr., was famous for saying, "I do not like broccoli. And I haven't liked it since I was a little kid and my mother made me eat it. And I'm the President of the United States, and I'm not going to eat any more broccoli." That pretty much sums up how I felt as an adult, in charge of my own life.
Then, at a certain point, I realized that many of my actions, were outside of my own control--being caught up in sin, and addictions and things I did not possess the willpower to overcome. But as God drew me in close, and taught me about who I was in His son, Jesus---and the sin began to fall off, and I began to taste the true joy and freedom which only comes in Christ---I began realizing that there was a greater freedom than just "running my own life." I began to feel like a treasured grown daughter, who was seen as a partner in running the family business.
Now, God is whispering in my ear of greater consecration still. He whispers in the secret moments when my heart is most HIs: "You're on mission, Laura. Today, it's not about you."
And when I go to church looking forward to a great service, I hear his call: "Look to the needs of others. I have need of you. It's not about you today."
And when I get up to go to work, and am tempted to give less than my best to my students. "You're on mission. I gave my best. Give yours. You don't get to rest today. It's so not about you."
And when I've had a rough week, and my heart is lonely, and my emotions are depleted and I am ready to say, "Hello, darkness my old friend . . ." I hear a correction in my spirit. "You don't get to be depressed anymore. There's too much work to do. Don't you know, child---it's not about you?"
I used to have this conversation game I'd play with friends and acquaintances. I would ask their world view in one word. Mine was always "Freedom!" At one point, I wanted to name my firstborn child that. My whole life has been spent seeking freedom from the control of others, and finding control in myself.
I don't think maturity gives me the ability to do what I want anymore. If anything, I think the more mature you get, the less of yourself you get to claim.
My new home, which I've been dreaming about for months----which will belong to me in 3 days! (3 DAYS, EEK!) Will never belong to me. I've made plans around it and dreamed about all of the things I hope to do; the company I'll entertain, the furniture I want, the community groups I'll host, the parties, and on and on. Tonight I realized, it's not mine. I'm on mission. My brand new home? is not about me. It belongs to Him, because I belong to Him. And I haven't even asked how He wants to use it.
My emotions are not my own anymore. He has claims on them. If He says, "Suck it up!" then I suck it up. If He says, "Cowboy up" then it's game on.
And I realized tonight, too---that my time is not my own. (Side note: Some of this has been building for weeks. But much came tonight during a church worship night. Beware the church worship night. Nothing could be funner, right? What it really means? Is that God gets you alone for a loooooong time, and He finally gets to say everything He wants to say uninterrupted by commercials. Beware the church worship night.)
My schedule belongs to Him. My "Yes" is His yes, my "No" is His no. I serve at the pleasure of the King.
I am no longer my own. I have been bought with a price. I am on mission.
His mission is my new world view.