Fences and Freedom

This was originally posted in September on Heart Speaks to Heart. I continue to dream of a fenced in yard for my family.

One of my little frustrations with our home is that I have no yard. When Gui is bouncing off the walls from being inside all day, I have to decide whether to let him play on the sidewalk in front of the house, or pack the boys up and go to the local playground.

If he plays out front, I have to be out front as well, to watch him. He is limited to the space in front of our house, between our car and the bushes – a narrow strip of sidewalk and gravel. He can play with chalk, or swing ‘lightsabers’ around with his friends next door, but can’t play with balls or any other toy that might get knocked on to the street and pose a temptation to run out in traffic. If I need to go inside to change the baby’s diaper, cook dinner, wash dishes, or any other reason, Gui needs to come inside as well. If he strays too far one way or another, he is corrected and brought back, and told to ‘stay near the house’, and if he strays too often after a warning, we go back inside.

So…we often go to the local playground instead, even though to do so is to commit to hours outside (which can throw off my housework bigtime ;-)). We’ve always enjoyed the playground but it has become even better in the last couple months since it went from partially to fully enclosed. There is fence on all four sides with one gate on each side to let kids and parents in and out. Once we get to the playground, I get a chance to stop hovering. Secure in the knowledge that Gui can’t get out without my seeing him at the gate, I can sit on a bench in the shade, read a bok, chat with other parents, or sit with the baby in the grass while Gui kicks a ball around, climbs play equipment, or just plays tag with his friends. I rarely need to speak sharply to him at the playground. There is no need to remind him of his boundaries or worry about a toy gone astray. As a result, he is happier, and so am I.

The happy medium, I think, would be to have a fenced in yard at home. To be able to watch my child play outside while I wash dishes and cook inside. To be able to give my son the freedom to go outside and play as he will without the exhausting hovering and without neglecting my home.

All of this was on my mind as I read this post on marriage. The aithor has hit on a great truth here, the same truth I’ve learned while trying to give my son more freedom. TR says,

“It may seem obvious, but making choices enable you to go much further, and I feel that many people don’t see it that way anymore … Marriage is a structure. That gives you a frame so you can define more clearly what you expect, what to do and how. It’s very reassuring and empowering.”

I think this is another way at getting at this truth: Boundaries give us greater freedom.

Strange, isn’t it? To think that fences = freedom? But it’s true. TR points out that the married couple is free to make plans for 5, 10, 15 years down the road. They are free to dream, to make choices based on the restrictions they accepted when they married: fidelity and constancy. Yes, life may still surprise, but there is still a freedom there that can’t exist in a relationship where there are no givens.

Like the generous front yard of my dreams, the boundaries of marriage define marriage, even though marriage is much more than merely boundaries. I can’t talk about the yard I want to have without describing the boundaries I want it to have – the outer limits of the space which enclose it and give it definition. Fences do not make a yard, but they do let you clearly know where it begins and ends so you can better appreciate the lushness and refreshment of the space inside. Likewise, marriage is more than merely not having affairs and not divorcing…but that fidelity and constancy set the marriage relationship apart from friendship and other human relationships. Within those bounds, we are free – to give totally to each other, recklessly, knowing that the other will be around tomorrow and all our tomorrows…to have bad days and months and know there will be more months and days to make it up…to make decisions about children and jobs and money and health and know that even if we don’t always quite live up to our good intentions, we aren’t going to lose each other in our efforts. When we were postponing pregnancy after Gui, I worried sometimes about the health risks and the financial strain if we were to concieve. But I never worried about whether the father of my children would be around to raise them, planned or not. Know what I mean?

Promises and laws may be fences, but sin and selfishness are more like a leash. The person determined to be ruled only by their own desires and inclinations winds up…ruled by their desires and inclinations. I have watched souls throw off the ‘fences’ of family and faith only to become leashed to habits and dependencies, circling around and around in the same well-trodden path of drinks, indulgences, and shallow relationships. After all, if there are no standards but your desires, there is no argument strong enough to counter desire, even unhealthy desire.

My parents had a fenced in yard in front of the old farmhouse. It wasn’t there when they first moved there, but was built after an incident with our dog, a young, excitable mutt named ‘Frisky’. Frisky discovered that a neighbor down the road had chickens, and that chickens are a ton of fun to chase. Finally, he caught one – maybe it’s heart gave out while running, maybe he just caught up with it – whatever the case, Frisky was caught red-pawed, and it became clear that his life depended on being broken of the chicken-chasing habit. We kept Frisky inside the house or leashed for a few days, but his whining and scratching to go out were heartbreaking. So my dad built a fence.

Sure, Frisky preferred roaming free to being fenced in – but unlike the leash, the fence let Frisky run around with us kids, play fetch, roll in the grass and jump in the air and just be a crazy, energetic dog. Letting Frisky outside the fence to do what he liked wasn’t an option – As long as Frisky remembered what fun chickens were, he was going to go back to the scene of the crime, and if he were caught killing chickens he was likely to be shot. The fence gave Frisky freedom – not only to run, but to live. (He was allowed out of the fence after a few weeks, and to my knowledge never chased another chicken, living to a ripe old age). In much the same way, moral laws give us freedom.