We talk a lot about freedom. Freedom from lies, freedom from slavery, freedom to be who we are made to be, freedom to walk in victory with the King. Yes. I love freedom. It is such an abstract term and we can basically use it to describe any revelation in identity.
Last night we experienced a physical manifestation of freedom. The freedom to dance in the middle of a perfectly lit coffee shop with windows for walls was ours last night. Yes, we really did dance around like crazy white people while many Thai people looked in questioningly at the sight. This freedom was beautiful, yet, kind of expected. Sure, our sweet Father in Heaven loves to let His children dance with a passion for His goodness.
But like I said, freedom can take on many forms. Somewhat unwillingly, I got to experience a new side of freedom today.
I took my first visit to the doctor this morning, accompanied by my wonderful leader, Sierra. Upon arrival, the receptionist asked the two of us to explain the symptoms that brought us to her counter. Immediately, I looked at Sierra to answer the question as if she were my mom. When she silently waited for me to respond, I literally froze. Where was my sweet mom to tell this Thai woman the embarrassing truth of why I had to see the doctor?! This is freedom, I suppose. I was “free” to be an adult and tell the receptionist the honest truth: that I have had digestive problems for the past four weeks.
However, in all His humor, God did not let my freedom end there. After a few minutes, the receptionist referred me to a group of nurses on the other side of the lobby. I waited for Sierra to walk over to the nurses with me and take over the explanation this time. Ha, didn't happen. Again, she left me to exercise my freedom as an adult.
This time would be better, I thought. I had the correct words to make these Thai nurses understand my predicament. Wrong. I was first approached by a male nurse who asked me my symptoms which I provided a vague answer to. Of course my embarrassed and quiet English did not help the translation process, so he invited another nurse over to ask the same question. Another failure. However, this time, the second nurse then asked the entire group of her peers to listen and help her translate what I was saying. I was forced to make hand motions while loudly and slowly repeating my symptoms to the group and even some patients waiting nearby. My words were met with giggles and snickers. I'm pretty sure I have never been so embarrassed in my life.
And yet, I know today is a moment I will look back on with joy. In the most unlikely of ways, I experienced freedom. As embarrassing as it was telling petite, innocent Thai nurses about my digestive issues, I am thrilled! Those things are an aspect of human life that I usually avoid talking about at all costs, but the Lord is changing me. He is holding my hand as I realize that I am free to be embarrassed, to be bold and confident, to address those hard issues, to be comfortable with myself, and to let others do the same.
The Lord reminded me of how secure I am in His love. I am free to be embarrassed because He lifts me up. He treasures me and nothing else matters.
…And now I am writing a blog about one of the most personal bodily functions…who am I becoming? I am all His.
