Free

He was unlike anyone I had ever met.

So confident and sure of himself.

Solid.

He could command a room without even trying. People just naturally followed him. In fact, come to think of it, we were following him that very day - the day that's forever sealed in my memory, drawn with indelible ink. While our moms played softball in the field nearby, our small and energetic group set off to explore the surrounding territory. He led, we followed.

I was the outsider. We all knew each other somewhat, but I was the youngest of the group and a bit of a "newbie" to the huddle. So, I hung at the fringe, unsure of myself - following. In truth, he fascinated me. His eyes glinted with fun and adventure, and he wasn't scared of anything. I just wanted to blend in...not make waves...be liked. Not him. He couldn't have cared less what other people thought of him. His whole person seemed to shout, "This is me - what's not to like?!"

As we strolled along that afternoon in the bright sun, we found a heap of old, abandoned tires. He shot a mischievous grin at his best buddy. Then he scrambled up to the top of that pile of tires, turned to face us, and began to belt out the theme song of "The Monkees" at the top of his lungs. As we all dissolved into laughter, I thought, This boy is crazy! My next thought was predictably pre-adolescent, but heartfelt nonetheless: I'm in love!

It wasn't that I thought he was cool.

It wasn't that he had a great voice.

It wasn't even that he was funny.

It was this plain and simple fact: He didn't give a rip what I, or anyone else, thought of him.

I was blown away by his confidence! Not because it was so amazing, I suppose, but because it was so...un-me. What would it feel like to be that free? I had no idea, but I was sure he was the one who could show me.

It took me 3 years to get his attention, but when I finally did, he did not disappoint. I gained a front-row seat to the show entitled, "How to live your life like no one's watching." Let me be clear - he wasn't brazen or careless. He cared very much what God thought of his life, but he lived for an audience of One. As far as anyone else's opinion, he really didn't have the time to care. To a girl who is about as brave and adventuresome as a stick in the mud, he was like one long, breathless roller-coaster ride. Shortly before we were married, he gave me a clue about the nature of our future life together. He said to me, "I'll promise you this - you will never, ever be bored."

Twenty years later, (twenty??!!) he still leaves me breathless. His eyes still glint as he takes me by the hand and pulls me (hyperventilating) out of the predictable and safe. He still lives his life for an audience of One, and couldn't care less what anyone else thinks. And you know what? He's free. In a way I struggle to understand. He frequently advises me to forget about other people's expectations. I hear him...but I don't get it. In theory, and by practical observation, I know he's right. I see the "rightness" of his life. But I have such a hard time cutting all the strings.

I remember learning about photosynthesis in high school science class. In all my short years, I had always believed that tree leaves were naturally green, and were completely transformed once a year to create the magical beauty of autumn. I was fascinated to learn that leaves are, by natural design, all the beautiful colors of autumn. It's the green hue of chlorophyll that masks their true colors the rest of the year. As I drove under a canopy of changing leaves earlier this week, I was struck by the thought that maybe we are all a lot like leaves. It's only when we allow our true colors to be masked by the fear of others' expectations that we all look alike - common green. It made me wonder - what if really, underneath it all, I'm meant to be the one yellow maple in a line of blazing orange ones? Or crazier still, what if I'm a pine tree? And why does that scare me? Isn't that the beauty, not only of autumn, but of the body of Christ?


I deeply admire my husband for many reasons. Not the least of which is his ability to ignore the opinions and expectations of others when he knows he's pleasing the One who really matters. I crave the freedom, contentment and confidence that comes as a result. All these years later, God is still using that boy to teach me, to lead me. I'm grateful. Just so long as I don't have to start singing from the top of a pile of old tires...