This post originally appeared on my blog in honor of July 4, 2010, but I wanted to share it with you again for those who had not read it . . . because the words are still as true for me today as they were two years ago. Our “babies” are little people now and we have since added one more. Oh, and hardly worth mentioning, we’ve also moved overseas since then! But the truths of this post–the longing-song of freedom that is in all our hearts–remain unchanged.
All my love, Leeana.
***
I spoke at my home church, Flood, this Sunday, July 4th. My church is in the middle of a series on grace, and I spoke on the story of Joseph and the theme of God’s grace in the midst of injustice. I talked about the unjust things that happen in our lives—the things that come and find us through no fault of our own—and the injustices of our world that are difficult to reconcile with the presence and provision of a loving God.
Of course, since it was July 4th, I also brought in the war, and the great confliction I feel around the realities of war. I am so proud of the work my husband and his teammates have accomplished overseas—the work of freedom and justice—and yet I am also deeply saddened by the lives lost, the families separated, the cost of having such a cause.
I read an excerpt from a chapter in Found Art that really highlights my difficulty reconciling a loving God with the state of our world. I wanted to share that chapter because it honestly relates my struggle, and yet I feel like it is hopeful. We must hate the injustices instead of hating God. We must keep looking for God in the tiniest cracks and the smallest crevices of our world because he is there.
After church, we had a handful of friends over. Steve grilled and we all took turns chasing kids. Steve and I put the kids down and fell asleep even before the first fireworks went off. He’s just returned from a two and a half week trip with four stops, literally flying around the world. We are both tired.
I spent the day thankful to have him home, thankful for the squeals of delight our babies let out when they saw him walk through the doors at the commuter terminal, thankful for our friends who tirelessly support and encourage us, and thankful for freedom . . . the kind of freedom that we long for every day, the kind of freedom that directs us to God.
As the introduction to my message, I shared Maya Angelou’s poem, “Caged Bird” that speaks to the injustice of slavery and the longing-song of freedom.
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind
and floats downstream till the current ends
and dips his wing in the orange sun’s rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage
can seldom see through his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.
Many of us feel as though we’re caged, clipped, kept, suffering from something we didn’t choose. My exhortation on Sunday and my exhortation today is to, keep singing.
We long for a world free of suffering, sadness, loss, disappointment, addiction, abuse, poverty, homelessness, war. Though our world is broken, even our very lives broken, we must keep singing.
For we know, deep down on the soul level, it is for freedom that Christ has set us free.
