I meet with a group of men every Friday morning. These men are leaders…some of the “movers and shakers” in our community. (If you must know, I invited myself!) I love hearing the hearts of these men…their dreams and hopes and aspirations. I haven’t been involved with them for very long, but the time has became sacred to me.
Last week, the leader of the group asked us to share the time in our lives when we experienced the most freedom. My mind went into hyper-speed. Even with all my synapses firing, desperately seeking even a faint memory of a moment of freedom, I came up empty. It’s not that I feel bound up, it’s just that the pace of my life is so intense that I rarely feel free.
But then I remembered.
It was in my moment of greatest trial that I actually felt the greatest sense of freedom. My oldest son had been diagnosed with cancer, and after spending several weeks deciding on the treatment path, my “part” was completed. I had come to the end of myself and clearly recognized that I could no lon...
