We all have something in common.
We all carry burdens.
Some carry financial stress. Others are navigating health challenges. Some live with emotional pain or the weight of past experiences. Whatever form they take, most of us share the same quiet longing to be free.
This past Sunday, a homily from New York’s new Archbishop, Ron Hicks, stayed with me.
It came just after our nation’s 250th anniversary of Independence Day, a fitting time to reflect on what freedom really means.
He red the words engraved on the Statue of Liberty:
“Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
For generations, those words have represented hope.
The Archbishop pointed out something I had never considered before.
Lady Liberty promises to light the way. She doesn’t promise an easy journey.
There is no guarantee that the storms will disappear. Those who pass through the Golden Door must still make the crossing themselves.
But her invitation carries something just as powerful—a vote of confidence.
It says, You are capable of this.
Hicks explained that same message echoes in Sunday’s Gospel:
“Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.”
Not the kind of rest that comes from escaping life.
The Greek word used here speaks of an inner peace—a deep stillness of heart and mind that can exist even while life remains uncertain.
That peace already lives within you.
Just as we all experience burdens, we all have access to both the light that guides us and the peace that sustains us.
The first step is believing you are worthy of it.
Lady Liberty invites every weary traveler through the Golden Door because she believes in their strength.
The Divine invites each of us into peace because our true nature is already whole.
Peace and freedom are not rewards that must be earned.
They are your birthright.
Perhaps that’s why human beings have always been willing to cross oceans, face uncertainty, and embrace change.
Somewhere deep inside, we know freedom is possible.
The Archbishop also shared a beautiful story.
When he recently met Pope Leo, he felt nervous introducing himself. Before he could say much, the Pope smiled and said, “Of course I know who you are!”
He spoke about how meaningful it felt to be known.
That story reminded me of something profound.
There is a part of you that already knows who you are.
Beyond fear…
Beyond self-doubt…
Beyond old stories…
There is a deeper wisdom within you that knows your strength, your goodness, and your immense capacity.
That part of you is inspired by the light before you and comforted by the Divine presence within you.
What if every challenge wasn’t simply an obstacle, but an invitation?
An invitation to respond with more love than fear.
More grace than resistance.
More trust than control.
What if your burdens weren’t given to define you, but to reveal the strength, wisdom, and love that have been within you all along?
None of us are perfect.
We all carry personal burdens, family burdens, and even burdens passed down through generations.
Yet every generation hopes to leave the next with something greater.
Life.
Liberty.
And the pursuit of happiness.
Perhaps real independence isn’t simply about the freedom we celebrate as a nation.
Perhaps it’s also about the freedom we choose within ourselves.
The freedom to choose love instead of lack.
Compassion instead of judgment.
Expansion instead of fear.
Happiness instead of needing to be right.
Storms will always come.
But the light has never gone out.
Sometimes it shines before us, lighting the way.
Sometimes it shines within us, reminding us who we are.
May this be your invitation to celebrate a different kind of independence—the freedom to trust yourself, honor your heart, choose love over fear, and remember the light that has always been within you.
Much love,
PS
Please feel free to share this with anyone who could use some hope. 💕
