Forgotten Freedom

Some memories have dormant modes. Those are the ones that we forget even exist until some undefinable force reawakens them.

Many memories were stirred from their slumber last weekend. I went to my high school's homecoming basketball game Friday night and saw people whom I haven't seen in several months. I had flashbacks of being on OCA's court, dressing up for spirit week, and cheering on the team -- things directly linked with homecoming festivities. However, I also remembered idiosyncrasies of the students and staff, the jargon in a small Christian school, the jokes that no one outside understands, the celebrations of everyday victories, and the suffering of teenage years. And so many of those things were still there, but sitting in the bleachers and looking around at all the familiar faces, the change overwhelmed me. I wondered if I had changed drastically or if those around me had. I decided it was maybe a combination of both, but that it was mostly me.

Some of the friends had grown farther from me without either of us meaning to be so far away. Our lives had simply taught us different things and found us in opposite places. Others had consciously chosen to put more distance between us -- those are the relationships that ache from starvation. Still others have come close to me, not by any work of our own but by God's divine providence, and the product is gloriously revealed in our hugs, laughter, and conversation.

OCA turned 15 years old this month, so I stayed for the celebration on Monday night. OCA and I grew up together, so I knew much of the history that was reiterated that night. Still, I hadn't thought about those 15 years as a whole since I was still attending OCA. I owe so much to the education I received there, the love I was shown, the leadership I was given. Memories were awakened, and with them arose appreciation -- of what God has done to write my life story.

He used a script in a play last night to awaken memories and appreciation of them from their dormancy. The plot was not exact to my situation, but I related to it wholeheartedly. A woman was married to a man who was in love with his own success more than he could ever love her. She was faithful to him. There were no other men in her life to go to, but she left him because he was yoked more to his status than to his wife. He married again, but still didn't care for his wife as much as climbing the social ladder. The thing that grabbed my attention most was the woman who realized she was in a dictating relationship and set herself free from it. The difference with me? Christ has set me free.

The memory of freedom had been in dormant mode. I had pushed away the remembrance of confinement because I was attached to my cage. Being set free meant loss for me-- loss of romance, a best friend, and dreams of our future together-- until I was reminded of the vastness of opportunity and space that Christ had given me by pulling me out of that relationship and giving me an intimate relationship with Himself. He showed me the rest of the world, and I stood in awe of Him. Being enamored by something outside of me was nothing new. I had been amazed by the successes of the other guy in my life for years. But through those years, I had not really seen the glory of God's creation, except through the foggy goggles of another person. It was as if God said, "Charity, he is great and has done many things, but look farther. Look around you! I did so much more."

And I saw it.

I saw the glory of the Lord because Christ was writing my story and freeing me within it. And that particular memory is one that I hope never falls into dormancy.

"For the honor of your name, lead me out of this danger. Free me from the trap that is set for me, for you are my refuge. I entrust my spirit into your hand. Rescue me, Lord, for you are a faithful God." -Psalm 31:3-5