Finding Freedom

I recently had a very vulnerable experience.

As an English major, I am used to submitting my words and thoughts to my professors' scrutinizing eyes. I have grown accustomed to negative feedback in the margins and thrill when I receive the grade I hoped for. But even with this familiarity with criticism, there is nothing like your most intimate thoughts undergoing review.

Since I was a child, I have crafted stories. Some of those stories only played out in my head, but nevertheless, I have always considered myself a writer of fiction. My first year in college, I submitted one of the few stories I had captured on paper to the survey of my creative writing cohort. To my surprise, they liked it. They praised it. They told me I was good enough.

Yet, as those who write will attest, one negative comment can squelch a mound of positive ones. Self-doubt is my greatest enemy, and I have been defeated more than victorious. This semester, when I submitted another creative work, my professor didn't say well done. My classmates found errors. My heart told me I failed.

How do we recover from wounds that feel like failure? How do we cope what feel like a mistake?

I have realized that succeeding in what I love is a very personal experience. No one else can tell me how or when I will feel accomplished; its internal. I remember the days of writing--the lonely hours, the late nights, the broken hearted moments--that made up that piece. To me, every word was exactly what I wanted to write and allowed me a form of expression that I couldn't find anywhere else. I didn't write it to benefit others. I wrote it because I needed to write it.

I've learned that no matter how others respond to my decisions, big or small, I have to know that I am okay with my choice--and then live with the consequences. Currently, my greatest choice every day is to follow Christ. I choose to walk with Him despite my doubts. I choose to submit to Him despite my fear. And I choose Him every day because I know that what He has for me will always be for my benefit.

When I graduate in Spring, I have another choice. I can walk a journey of justification, always explaining and reconciling my decisions to others, hoping that I always please the majority. Or I can take the path before me, even if I end up running backwards, sideways, or upside-down.

Change is good. It fuels trust, creativity, and opportunity. I look forward to beginning a life where I am allow to fall on my face and stand up again, not the least concerned that dirt still clings to my cheek.

That is freedom.