The Erosion of Freedom

Growing up, my family made an annual pilgrimage to a small island on the North Carolina coast. There under the Southern summer sun I learned how to fish for, but rarely catch, flounder. My brother taught me by painful demonstration the fine art of delivering an expertly timed “wedgie.” And I ate more than my fair share of creek shrimp served up Calabash style.

I think of those week long summer excursions often.

Not too long ago, I returned to the area on business – just one island up from my summer playground. As I walked along the sandshell paved street I came to the end of the island and discovered a rather disheartening site; someone’s home slipping slowly into the sea.

There was no violence. No sudden disturbance. No hurricane. Just the steady, boring drumbeat of nature slowly taking its course. The once grand house now resembled little more than a dear old friend facing the unpleasant end at the hands of some undiscovered cancer. Had the disease been caught in time something could have been done, but now the conclusion was forgone and the time short. And while at the surface things seemed as peaceful as always, there was simultaneously burgeoning underneath an elusive force bent on nothing less than annihilation. Unrelenting in its cause and unwavering in its determination. Hope of recovery was surrendered quietly, unknowingly years prior.

I walked away more slowly than I had approached.

That house and the inherent hopes, memories and dreams on which it once so firmly stood would eventually collapse unceremoniously into itself.

And I pause and give wonder to what lies beneath the foundation of this our common house, of this our country? What sands are shifting underneath our feet unbeknownst to us?

Before you throw me in the black helicopter and chain me to Art Bell and Bill Cooper, allow me to add a personal disclaimer of such here; I am in no way saying that the yellow condemned tape is wrapping our once grand home nor am I even suggesting that it has been removed from its packaging, but perhaps it is on order.

The erosion of freedom isn’t a hasty process. It’s taken in the dark of night under the cover of some friendly government entitlement. It’s picked from our paychecks before we even have the chance to put them in the bank. And it’s deleted from the pages of history in the name of political sensitivity. The specific examples are unimportant for the sake of this argument (code for I’m running out of time and can’t list them currently).

All this analogy brings us to today’s question(s) with the hopes of you providing some answer; where is freedom slipping out from underneath us, and more importantly what can be done to sure up our once sound footing? Maybe tomorrow will bring answers.