I can imagine that when we talk about walking in freedom with Jesus, it must look something like a local Ngäbe-Buglé tribe member scurrying through muddy paths - flooded in places, scattered with rocks that to the untrained eye look slippery as can be. One misstep and you are knee-deep in the gooshiest mud type clay you’ve ever seen. On a bad day, you’ll lose a shoe. Watching our friends move through these paths always amazes me. Joe and I are here slow like turtles, tortuga as we say and they giggle, building a line of villagers behind us. Too courteous to pass us, just patiently waiting. We carefully judge every step, every rock, every puddle - is it shallow enough? Will I get sucked into the abyss of mud and muck?

Then as the days go on and we remember how to walk here - in our rain boots, finding our footing - we become more confident. Stepping from rock to rock, trusting without fully knowing. Can the rock hold me? Will it move? Is it slippery? The longer you wait to decide, the more likely you’ll stumble. So it hit me today, walking our path to work, watching a ten-year-old boy running ahead of me like he was born to it. Joe said, “Ok, there she goes - getting comfortable with your steps.” And I realized he was talking about me. I had found my footing again, hopping through the path like I grew up here. And in that moment it came out of me before I could think it through:
“This is what walking in freedom feels like.” Trusting God’s path without knowing if the rock is steady. Not even worrying about it. Leaping, going head first, full force onto the next one.

When we stumble in life, when the enemy seems to be winning, we step back. We slow down. We doubt the path the Lord has for us. And the weight of all that careful stepping - the tension in your body, the stress in your mind - it costs you more than you realize. The future rock, will it hold you? That worry drags you down, makes you slower than the turtle, and keeps others waiting behind you for the goodness ahead that none of us can see because we are too busy minding our steps.
But oh, to walk in freedom.

The “hola holas” and “buenas” come easy as you pass villagers. You’re smiling, practically skipping over the deep puddles, hopping rock to rock like a native, sharing joy along the path - knowing full well that what the Lord has in store is a steady rock, a gorgeous river, a family of people grateful to see you. And the happiness you carry becomes a ripple effect moving through the mountains. The hugs that were never given are now expected. Smiles come to you before you even offer yours. Children swarm with laughter. The men nod and shake your hand. Those who were once strangers greet you like lifelong friends.
Jesus flowing from you like rays of sunshine. That is freedom.

Walking with Christ in freedom is like walking these treacherous, out-to-get-you rocky paths with the ease of a Ngäbe-Buglé native - in worn-in rain boots, carrying who knows what over their head, literally bouncing boulder to boulder, sometimes over the river. Not because the path got easier. Because you stopped being afraid of it.