Freedom Within These Walls

“Put down your iPads and go play in your room,” I tell my sons. Their reaction makes me sound like a soul-crusher. Tears, protests, and begging pour out of their mouths as they push back against my directive. It was an expected outcome but irritates me anyway. 

“Fine, then, if you hate these toys so much, let’s just get rid of them, then you won’t even have to clean them up.”

“Noooooo,” the tears intensify. The threat of losing toys turns them into precious, invaluable objects. Even this book with the ripped pages, and especially that Ninja Turtle missing a leg. 

Most of the time, my sons gravitate to things with screens to entertain themselves, and the toys remain tucked under their bed and in the closet, waiting for them to play. However, the moment I threatened the idea of toys at their disposal, they fall apart. My kids may not want to play with their toys, but they want to have the opportunity to play with the toys if they so choose. 

And that is basically me on stay-at-home orders. A contented, introverted part of me has waited my entire life for the cancellation of all obligations outside the home. This part has embraced the excuse to tuck away in my home and avoid the outside world. And then there’s the other part of me that chafes at the idea that I can’t/shouldn’t go where I want when I want, even though I don’t actually want to go anywhere. 

Part of becoming a parent is seeing your odd personality traits and character flaws reflected in your children. My kids, and flair for over dramatics mixed with an intense dislike of rules, are a picture of my own struggles. These struggles aren’t unique to me. We can go all the way back to Adam and Eve and see that the very first humans had one simple rule and a whole lot of freedom, but they managed to mess it up. They looked at the rule, at the limitation, and let it block out their entire world of freedom. 

If I’m not careful, I’ll do the same thing here. Sure, staying-at-home isn’t ideal, but within these restricting walls, there’s also freedom. Freedom to sleep in, to slow down, to relax, to reprioritize my life without the extra distractions. Freedom to dismiss unrealistic expectations. There’s an opportunity here to play, to discover creativity, to get to know my family in person, and not just in passing. My word for 2020 was ‘Abandon.’ While I may not have known what 2020 would hold— who could have guessed this?— I think abandon is even more appropriate. It’s the perfect time to reevaluate and abandon the unnecessary things I do out of habit and obligation. It’s the golden opportunity to give my family my undivided attention and love them with abandon. 

I miss my friends. I miss my kids’ teachers (those wonderful saintly folks). I miss Starbucks. But I know that if I focus on the things that I can’t do, I’ll miss out on all the beautiful things that I can do. Pandemics are scary and dangerous, but “Where the spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.” (2 Cor 3:17). Despite anxiety and my desire to move about unfettered, I’m choosing to focus on the freedom I have. I trust goodness and freedom will be found within these walls. And if God needs to throw away all my toys for me to see it, then I’ll try not to cry too much about it.  

 And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28