This Thing Called Freedom

Photo by Steve Douglass

By Ken Hanson


Some take if for granted, this thing called freedom,
But that’s the next to last thing you should do.
Freedom isn’t free, it comes at a cost,
Paid for by people who came before you.

Our founding fathers and ancestors,
Paid for our freedom with their lives,
A way of life we all now enjoy,
Sons and daughters, husbands and wives.

In the long warm days, while summer is still new,
We gather again to celebrate and play,
Picnics, parades, fireworks and lemonade,
We honor those who gave us what we have today.

This precious thing called freedom, do we really understand,
The price that was paid long ago?
To us, it’s a day off from work,
Fun at the lake, take in a picture show.

To them, freedom meant their lives,
They gave everything to start something new,
Their sacrifice lives on today,
So much that was gained, bought by so few.

This fragile thing called freedom, are we really aware,
How easily it could go away?
A border over run, the people oppressed,
Examples on the news most every day.

Dictators cast their eyes on our freedom,
They would take it away if they could,
But we are a people who defend our flag,
We can, we do, and we should.

Those who would harm us rarely succeed,
There are people who stand in their way,
Our brave men and women in the US Armed Forces,
Stand vigil over our freedom every day.

They continue a service started long ago,
A time when our nation was still new,
Our freedom shall not be in peril,
We have something worth defending, and we do.

It usually isn’t easy, families split by deployment,
Hard on them, their children, especially their wives,
The price of freedom paid for willingly,
Their time, their families, sometimes their lives.

Next time you see a soldier, offer them your hand,
Tell them you appreciate what they do,
A sacrifice they made by choice,
To defend the flag, and me, and you.

This amazing thing called freedom, can we even comprehend,
How deeply it runs through our soul,
A fundamental way of life, demanding vigilance,
And sometimes extracting it’s toll.

Our very lives determined by freedom of choice,
A concept which is known to us all,
Placed there, I believe, by our creator,
Impacting all lives, big and small.

This thing called freedom is part of our salvation,
A choice you have to make,
Christ’s salvation is offered, not demanded,
Even though your everlasting soul is at stake.

You have the choice to follow Christ,
It’s a choice you alone will decide,
Freedom from sin demands a sacrifice,
You might have to swallow your pride.

There’s only one path to salvation,
“No one comes to the Father but through me”,
Christ’s words that will shape your life,
And determine if salvation you will see.

Salvation can’t be bartered for or earned,
It doesn’t matter what you’re worth,
It’s a gift given by the grace of God,
Without restriction to all people of Earth.

This thing called freedom means it’s all up to you,
Freedom of choice you must embrace,
Certain damnation or everlasting salvation,
Offered to you through God’s Grace.

So, have you forgotten or are you still wondering,
What’s the last thing you should do?
That would be to turn away from Christ,
Don’t do it, He’s still waiting for you.

The Alternative

By Ken Hanson

The other day I saw an old cowboy,
Limping on down the street,
Although he wasn’t moving too fast,
At least he was still on his feet.

He appeared to be busted up pretty good,
With a bent leg and a built up shoe,
He obviously wasn’t about to give up,
Real cowboys never do.

It’s a sight that’s not that uncommon,
I’ve seen it many times before,
Farming and ranching can hurt you bad,
It’s a lifestyle with dangers galore.

A mean bull can hurt you by swinging his head,
He can stomp you and break any bone,
The brave men who ride them compete for points,
Even though the dangers are known.

Even your best horse can step in a hole,
And roll over on top of you,
There’s about a million ways to hurt your hands,
And cost you a finger or two.

A tractor can roll over and pin you down,
And do all kinds of harm,
A combine header has no sympathy,
When it clogs up and cuts off your arm.

Irrigation pipe can touch a power line,
And kill you in the blink of an eye,
Even though vigilant, something can get you,
No matter how hard you try.

Dave has a T-shirt he bought at Sturgis,
It’s one of his favorites by far,
It says, “If you don’t limp you ain’t squat”,
I think he found it in a bar.

He wears it with pride though he doesn’t limp much,
Some days it don’t even show,
He does pretty good to be missing a leg,
Something not many people know.

I’ve seen some people who are hurt or sick,
And lucky to be alive today,
“Well it sure beats the alternative”.
Is something I’ve heard them say.

The alternative they’re talking about,
Of course, is being dead,
They seem real happy to be alive,
At least that’s what they said.

I’m sure that being crippled or sick.
Is better than the death you fear,
Especially if you’re afraid of the devil,
You’re better off to stay right here.

But when you’re a born again Christian,
Everything changes for you,
Nobody wants to check out too early,
But it’s not the end if you do.

That bull or horse or tractor or combine,
Doesn’t mean it’s the end,
The fear of death is taken away,
When Jesus is your friend.

When you give your soul to Jesus,
Your life begins anew,
There’s a brand new body, healthy and strong,
Waiting in Heaven for you.

That sounds to me like a better alternative,
Than living your life in pain,
Struggling along, cursing your luck,
And using God’s name in vain.

Our time here on Earth is very short,
Compared to eternity, but then,
If you’ve told your children about Jesus,
In time, you’ll see them again.

So live your life the best you can,
Trust the Lord like a friend,
Be at peace knowing the salvation He offers,
Means that death isn’t the end.

But you already know that, it’s the reason you’re here,
Let’s tell the rest of mankind.
When you leave this church, tell the story of salvation,
To everyone you can find.