freedom and security

Happy Memorial Day.  Probably because I come from a military family (myself, my husband, my brother, my sister, my dad, my mom, several uncles, both grandfathers...), this holiday has always meant much more to me than just cookouts and concerts and a day off work.  It's a time to remember those who have fought and sacrificed to win and protect our nation's freedom - especially those who paid the ultimate price.  So I try to take some time every Memorial Day to say a prayer for those who are serving in uniform, and for the families of those who won't make it home.  Freedom is so valuable, and so costly.

Cashel's been getting a little taste of freedom this last week, as he's started to crawl (!).  Maybe I should say he's started to scoot... it's more grabbing the floor and pulling with his fingers while he pushes with his toes, powered by a heavy dose of pure stubbornness.  But he does get where he wants to go, and he's getting pretty darn fast.  As I've watched him and encouraged him, I've noticed a couple things: first, that my floors need to be swept much more often/thoroughly than I've apparently been doing, and second, that my baby needs to balance this little taste of freedom with a healthy serving of security.  He loves to be on his tummy, scooting around and chasing after his toys, but every few minutes he looks around to find me in the room and orient himself, and every ten minutes or so he makes his way over to wherever I am to grab my foot and ask to be picked up.  He usually doesn't want to stay long; he just wants a hug and to know that I'm right there if he needs me.  He's just touching base.  Making sure I'm still within reach.  And when he gets tired or scared or hurt, he wants to know that I'll come rescue him.  As long as he can see me, he's a pretty happy kiddo; chattering away and exploring everything he can get his hands on. 

Being a parent has taught me more about God and His relationship with us than I ever understood before.  Concepts I might have gotten in my head before are now firmly rooted in my heart.  The idea that He loves us more than we can comprehend, no matter what we do?  I just have to think about that sweet little boy to understand that.  Knowing that when I cry out, when I'm hurting or scared or tired, He's there to comfort me?  I have a much better picture of that now.  The idea that even though we have the freedom to go off on our own, do our own thing, it's always better to keep a connection to Him and "touch base" throughout the day?  Okay.  Got that one too.

Freedom is always linked to security - for our nation, we only have the one because we maintain the other.  For Cashel, he only feels comfortable enough to explore this new freedom when he also feels safe and connected to me or Karl.  And in our relationship with God, it's only in the security of His love and the sureness of His rescue that we have the freedom to be able to really live.

Today I'm thankful for the men and women who sacrificed their lives to protect my freedom.  And for this scooting, squirming little baby who preaches me a sermon every day.  May God make me worthy of both.