Freedom

What is freedom? What does it mean to you? How are you free? What makes you free?
Freedom, to me, is knowing that I can do what I want, when I want, as long as I cooperate with the consequences whether good or bad. For instance, if I want to drive across the country I can, if I stay within the speed limit I won't get pulled over by a police officer. If I want to voice my opinion, I can, as long as I don't create a riot. If I want to own a gun, I can, for my protection and the protection of my family (and for target practice).
I am free because I live in a country with laws created by our forefathers for the benefit of the citizens of the country.
As for what makes me free, there are a few things that I have photographed but have not yet digitized. Once I do, which will be soon, I will post them with explanations of why those things make me free.
Being that it is Independence Weekend, I wanted to post an Independence Post. I am so proud of all those who have served for our country and for our God. Because they are the men and women who have made it possible for me to be where I am today, free.
When I was 15 I wrote a poem for my history class. It then was published in the October or November '06 issue of Teen Impact, a magazine published for high schools in Utah. I figure this poem is appropriate to share on Independence Weekend.

The Soldier

It was a lovely Wednesday morning,

And everything was great,

Although no one knew what was to come,

With our breakfast made, we ate.

Our T.V. shouted “News flash!

A soldier is captive in Iraq.”

We were stunned there with wonder,

Knowing our brother hadn’t come back.

I had not seen the face on the screen,

My sight was still quite dazed,

But when I looked down at my sister,

Her eyes were huge and blazed.

“Is that him?” I heard her whisper,

“Sarah?” She turned to me,

“Sarah, can you see it?

Is that Michael on T.V.?”

I felt the pain rush in,

It smacked my eyes stone cold,

I did not want to hear it,

Though the horrid truth was told.

“We now have name of this soldier,

That is captive in Iraq,

Michael Anderson has great courage,

We only pray they send him back.”

“Isn’t this against their law?

It is nothing but cruelty,

They cannot murder him,

 He deserves to be free.”

The newscaster was right,

Michael did deserve to be free,

But why could they not see it,

The ones chaining him in misery?

A soul is missing from the earth,

A body is left alone,

His spirit lies inside of us,

But Michael Anderson never came home.