Last semester, I was encouraged to find a creative way to express something I learned at CGA. I thought I would write a song or make a piece of artwork, but this came out instead…
A bright house. With lush land, green grass, and towering trees. Berry bushes and apple orchards. All beckoning me to find wonder in their existence.
Bright and beautiful and bewitching.
I just walked right in.
It was someone’s property but there weren’t any fences. I just walked right in. I thought it was free to look at. So I looked, and sat, and rested. I sat with the owners and learned everything I could about the wonder of the property.
I thought I owed them something for my being able to sit under the trees. I thought I had to pay them back for allowing me to experience the wonder of the place.
So I cut the grass. I painted the shutters. I trimmed the hedges. And worked myself to the point that it was no longer peaceful. There was too much to be done. I couldn’t see the beauty under all the grass clippings and paint on my clothes.
I found myself frustrated with the owners of the property. Why weren’t they cutting their own grass and painting their own shutters?
The voice in my head said, “Maybe because you are doing it for them?”
But how can I stop now? They’re expecting me to cut the grass. I don’t want them to forbid me from sitting under the trees. I don’t want them to move away. I don’t want them to never talk to me again. I don’t want them to hate me.
Back and forth, my mind waged war, weighing my pros and cons. I feared too much. I cared too much. But I’m so tired. I feel empty. I don’t even have enough energy to cut my own grass, to paint my own shutters.
Back and forth my mind moved, but…
I faced my fears and built fences. A reminder of what is mine and what is someone else’s.
Now I think back, under the shade of my own trees and remember:
I was bumbling around on bare feet
Blundering, bobbing, bewitched by the fragrance of false freedom found in my unknown blindness.
I did not know because I did not see
And what I knew, I only knew in part.
But I bumbled around like a goldfish out of water, not knowing that I was suffocating.
I formed fences. I took a breath. I made barricades. I personified peace. In the confines of fences and barricades, I found my freedom.
The very barricades meant to keep things out were the same ones that gave me freedom, knowing that they were meant to keep things in.
I no longer cut the grass in a field that is not my own. I no longer paint the shutters of a house that isn’t mine. I no longer hold the expectations of those that aren’t even cutting their own grass.
Because I have found freedom within the limits of my fences.
Bordered and now with a backbone. No longer blindfolded by my misunderstanding. Able to say “no” and able to say “yes.”
I have found freedom in boundaries.
If this work made you think or question your boundaries (or maybe lack of them, like me), I encourage you to check out the book “Boundaries” by Cloud & Townsend. Let me know what you think – boundaries is a newer subject for me so I love to talk about it.
Please consider supporting me prayerfully and financially to attend the Center for Global Action in Georgia, June 2016. I have committed to 1 more semester (4 months) and will undergo training, discipleship, and apprenticeship with the focus on Leadership.
You can partner with me financially with a tax-deductible donation by clicking on the “Donate” tab, which will take you to the website with giving information. Thank you and God bless!
