Freedom

 Every patriotic holiday, we complain about the weather. Our wind ensemble plays at the local veterans memorial park two or three times a year, always a smattering of Sousa marches, rousing sentimental anthems and battle hymns. The park is built right on the top of the crest of a hill, where the wind is always blowing. If it’s hot, it’s blistering. If it’s cold, we’re freezing. I was struck with the irony of the location. Maybe it’s not irony at all…perhaps someone who has faced the heat and discomfort of battle was the one who chose this spot, a tiny glimpse of bleakness on an otherwise spotless day. 

I am a woman in a first-world country, who has never really missed a meal or suffered much. I grew up with my hand over my heart, singing the national anthem and getting misty every time Lee Greenwood came up to the mike. I’ve slept snug in my bed most nights, with the blessings of God and country all about me. But recent days and turmoil have made me think long and hard about the price of freedom. I’ve heard the word all my life, thought I knew what it meant and knew that I wanted to stay that way (free). But complacency and plenty tend to lull the sensibilities, whether they lull the senses or not. Our senses are plenty engaged, too much so…but we’ve fallen asleep in the light of our glorious gift. The pampered lion in the zoo becomes fat and jaded, no longer proud and fit. When it comes time to defend his pack, he is too full of his appetites to notice that he can no longer move. We’ve become arrogant in the victories we did not win ourselves. We don’t even remember what they meant. 

I always worried that freedom of speech would be taken away by a big government ploy, that, like in some communist regimes, a huge hand would sweep in and plunder the people. Maybe we’ve been watching for that, when the truth is, the loss of freedom doesn’t start from the top. It starts from within. It begins when peer pressure rules the day, when children no longer look to their parents for guidance but are ruled by the whims of their schoolmates. It happens when fear of man’s opinions becomes the king. This is where we are.

I want to stand in the battle for truth, to crest the hill, to be willing to stick my head up, even if it gets shot at. We have all become too sensitive, too scared to speak the truth, too willing to sit back and wait for someone else to take the heat. There’s a time to say what needs to be said, no matter the pressure, no matter the cost. There’s also a time to be quiet, and finding the balance between the two is no simple matter. If we live our lives in fear, then we might as well not live. Existing in a cave, while life passes us by, is no existence. Better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all….

And better to face the scorn of men than to remain silent.