The freedom of space

“At that moment there was very little I knew of myself or of the world—I had but one sentence on my mind—always the same: ‘I called to the Lord from my narrow prison and He answered me in the freedom of space.’

“How long I knelt there and repeated this sentence memory can no longer recall. But I know that on that day, in that hour, my new life started. Step for step I progressed, until I again became a human being.”

--Viktor Frankl
Man’s Search for Meaning

When one is in the midst of captivity (whether real or imagined, self-imposed or other-imposed) hope seems but a dream that dissipates too quickly with the coming of the dawn. Very little in the way of encouragement penetrates the confining walls; it’s only when escape has been successful that one can truly see the light.

It took several days for Viktor Frankl to accept the reality of his freedom after his release from internment in the concentration camps. His above mantra did not originate on the grounds of experience but rather, when repeated, it created a reality unto itself. He stepped out in blind faith with no evidence that his prayers would be answered. Perhaps there is some truth behind the adage, “God helps those who help themselves.”

This past semester, God answered my prayers “in the freedom of space.” It’s amazing how a little shift in geography can liberate a heart wrapped in barbed wire. Granted, my relocation involved much more than spatial change, but fresh scenery certainly helped.

I can honestly say this has been the best semester of my life thus far. It wasn’t always easy, but it was fulfilling beyond all I could ever hope. Looking back on past journal entries the other day, I came across several impassioned pleas to God for a change in situation. Surveying the past several months, I now see that every last one of my requests was not only answered but blessed beyond anything I could ever have imagined. It’s almost impossible to believe that this summer I’d considered dropping out of college. Two roads diverged, eh?

I like the way Ollie Hubbard interpreted the Robert Frost poem “The Road Not Taken.” Instead of a joyous affirmation of nonconformist principles, Ollie said it was a verse marked by regret, given the title’s emphasis on the path the poet rejected. Fortunately, I can see that the road I took was indeed the right choice. I’m so thankful.

In coming back to Taylor, I stumbled blindly toward an unknown fate. I did not know what awaited me in Upland. I’d pretty much abandoned all of my friends, my jobs, my major, my positions… everything that had once made me Megan Elder at Taylor University. Although I feared the year ahead, I no longer had a reason to stay in Evansville. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I honestly I didn’t want one.

This semester, I discovered the Truth of community in several amazing friends. I became aware of deeply hidden dreams and desires within my heart. I came alive to a world of possibility and change through the gentle prompting of my professors. I encountered authentic relationships at a level of reality I never knew existed. I took chances, I risked, I loved, I lived. I was not even conscious of such a life this summer. I could barely hope that there was such a thing.

“I called to the Lord from my narrow prison and He answered me in the freedom of space.”

The broken heart can be healed. The ensnared lark can find its voice. The prisoner can run free through open meadows.

The best things happen when we least expect them.