In the Lord of the Rings movie, “The Two Towers,” the character Eowyn, a young woman and niece of the king of Rohan, admits to her greatest fear.

 

“A cage,” she says, “To stay behind bars until use and old age accept them and all chance of valor has gone beyond recall or desire.”

 

I’m betting for most of us at some point, work can feel like that. Family can feel like that. Caregiving can definitely feel like that.

 

In fact any responsibility thrust upon us — as well as debilitating illnesses that clobber us or our dependents — can wall right in around us and add to the usual, normal stress of our situations.

 

Of course, everyone’s personality plays a part in how, or even if, the duty of stability is welcomed or loathed. 

 

Some folks are homebodies. They absolutely enjoy staying put and are either afraid of moving too far beyond their usual boundaries or see such movement as not worth the time and energy to accomplish.  They enjoy the routine, the sense of safety and the cozy feelings that can come from familiar surroundings.

 

But others long for the challenges that come with exploring new horizons, trying new things and stretching out past the same old, same old. Being stuck in place for these folks seems to smother their very souls.

 

And all of that sense of peace-in-place and joy-on-the-open-road may well evolve over time in either direction. Our approach can impact some of that evolution with God’s help.

 

We may meet our responsibilities out of a simple sense of duty — to our place of business, to our family members and perhaps to our pets and neighbors, our country and coworkers. The motivation of duty is good indeed — but we can do better if we don’t limit our faithful soldiering on to duty alone. Going beyond duty to love is where God comes in.

 

A sense of duty, good as it is, doesn’t necessarily keep the caged-up feeling away. If duty is our only motivation we may become resentful. That is an extremely unhappy place to be.

 

God is the one and only one who can reach into every circumstance and help us find and remember the meanings we already know. Then He can give us that extra motivation of love as well. Few of us start out big-hearted enough to set aside, for love, our own desires. We need God to teach us to love and to infuse His own love into our puny and stunted hearts.

 

If we let God come into the situation, begging Him for His love to be planted and to grow in our hearts, that smothering resentfulness can ease up. All of the stresses of our dutiful works may stick around, but adding God’s love in can give us greater perspective — helping us see a bigger picture and realize there are boundaries to our so-called cage that will expand someday.

 

Why will love — particularly God’s love — make a difference?

 

Love is stronger than anything. Here it allows a sense of duty to shift and expand into the nobility of white martyrdom. Martyrs — both red (literally shedding their blood) and white (giving of their lives in life) — have a sense of purpose as servants of God. Every diaper changed out of love, every deep breath we take in love when the going gets tough — builds up our immediate surroundings and, in a rather cosmic sense, helps create the Body of Christ in the world. Think of the humble work of Mother Teresa and her sisters as examples.

 

Evidence of people running away from loving duty abound in broken homes and corrupted businesses, in loneliness and loss. With God’s help, we can do better in our corner of the world.

 

The values in The Lord of the Rings reflect this love combined with duty. After a long time of stability and duties done for love of her people and her king, Eowyn gets her chance for glory. 

 

This fictional archetype of white martyrdom faces and conquers a great danger to save her king, with the help of a hobbit — a nobody in most eyes — who was the recipient of Eowyn’s kindness during her long sojourn.

 

May our own “caged in” travels bloom in love someday also.