The absence of coercion or constraint in choice or action. Liberation from slavery or the power of another.

We all agree freedom is of high value. Maybe the highest. Even if we do not all interpret what freedom looks like in the same way, we recognize the worth of this multi-dimensional noun. It means so much to so many…differing definitions depending on your background. Freedom is not something you can touch, it is more magical than that…intangible even, yet it is felt.

Freedom is a hunger. It lives within us, gnawing at our souls. And the soul is ravenous. To be free from bondage. To be free to do what we want. To be free to be who we are. No outside power holding us back or oppressing us. Choosing our own lives and how to live them. People all over the world long for liberty. It is an ache which is decreased only by the hope that it is attainable.  

Look across history to see the power self-determination has to draw people to itself. No matter the country, the time period, the conflict, the geography, or the social climate, you will find freedom fighters. Those who stood up, in spite of terrible odds, and fought for autonomy.  Refugees escape persecution and death by running to free places. Slaves run from the power of another in hopes of finding independence from their oppressors. Prisoners risk their lives to be loosed from their shackles.

Freedom fighters are strong no matter the circumstances. The longing to be free is so potent that facing death seems preferable to not having freedom. Even knowing demise is possible does not deter those who long to walk unhindered.

Each of us has our own story. I was privileged to be born in freedom. I have never had to think about it much. Watching others around the world struggle to gain what I was born with is humbling. It is beyond my imagining to not be free to move around as I please. To have to cross checkpoints and be questioned multiple times a day. My mind cannot conceive what it is like to live without running water or electricity because I am not of a certain class. Or how it is to live in a house made of mud and sticks.

I have seen these places and the people who live in them. They have a resilience I cannot comprehend. Just the hope of freedom sustains them against all odds. Their stories are night and day difference from mine. Even those in my own country have stories which do not resemble what I have experienced. So many who have had to fight in one way or another for obstacles to be removed.

I am grateful for the freedom fighters who stood for me to the point of death. They didn’t look for accolades. They simply wanted everyone to have a chance to be free. I am one of the everyone. I am forever in their debt. They are worth remembering because they died for my independence. I never even asked them to do it, yet I benefit from it daily.

To the families who have lost freedom fighters, I pray you know the power of the hope your loved one gave to the oppressed and burdened. I pray you feel the gratefulness of those, like me, who benefit from their sacrifice. I pray on this day of memorial, you have sweet memories to cherish and you are surrounded by those who love you and your warrior well.