I finally went to see Les Miserables this past weekend, and I wasn’t disappointed. I saw it on-stage a couple of years ago, and was pleasantly surprised that I enjoyed it so much on-screen.

It affected me differently this time than the first…maybe because I was able to pay better attention to the lyrics this time than the overall plot. While there are hundreds of lyrics suitable for quoting, two struck me to my core. One I’ll reserve for my own contemplation, but I’ll share the other because I find it to be a universal truth.

Set in 1832, a group of students who believe in democracy and equality dedicate themselves to making changes in French politics. When shots are fired during the funeral of General Lamarque {one who defended the common people}, the students, led by Enjolras, build a barricade and fight, but are ultimately defeated by French troops. Near the end of the battle, when the common people have hidden in their homes, and defeat is imminent, Enjolras sings,

The people have not stirred / We are abandoned by those who still live in fear. (Dawn Of Anguish)

When people decide to fight for their own freedom, they are not only met by those who oppose it and who will fight against it, but they are abandoned by those who are afraid…afraid of the freedom, as well as afraid of those who oppose it. Those who fight for their own freedom find themselves alone while their cries for help are ignored.

I’ll make it personal. I’ve been fighting for my own freedom…freedom from oppression, abuse, generational cycles, legalism, performance…freedom to live in grace, be myself, be led by Holy Spirit. It is with heavy heart when I emphatically say, It has been hell. This freedom is not coming without cost. There have been times when it felt as though a war were raging inside me. There are those who have {and still do} fight against it. And there are those who fear it, and have walked away.

The fight for freedom is a lonely one.

We numb ourselves to our chains and shackles and adapt to living with them. We can’t imagine life without them. Sometimes we even try to put chains and shackles on others because Misery loves company. But that is not how God intended for us to live.

Although I can’t dance {at all!}, I keep picturing the free life as that of a beautiful dancer…one who spins and leaps and kneels, arms open wide…with one step forward, two steps back, and three forward again…one who invites others into the dance.

I ask myself if the fight is worth it…worth being fought against, worth being abandoned. I answer positively when I imagine being able to invite others into the freedom and being able to stand alongside them as they fight their battles.