It was Sunday morning and I was listening to a piano solo on Pandora. The melody called me, haunted me actually.
Usually I don’t pay attention to titles, but something about the gentle runs and breaks with its ebb and flow rhythm had my name on it. It did. It was called “Letting Go.” It was an enticing whisper you want to get close enough to hear because you know there is a message in it. I knew it was my Sunday morning call to worship.I leaned my head back, closed my eyes, and listened
So what did I need to let go of?
Don’t ask if you don’t want to know. Immediately the list rolled in front of me.There were concerns about Lisa’s eyesight, my future in publishing, all the changes of the past year, changes waiting in tomorrow. Things I couldn’t control or plan for.
Let it go.
Suddenly, it wasn’t the music speaking. Coming through the inviting melody was that whisper I wanted to be close enough to hear, God speaking my heart language.
Let it go. Lay back. I’ve got this. All of it. I’ve got you. I’ve got here. Just let go.
He didn’t ask me to let go of the people and possibilities of my life, just my worries connected to them. Holding on to fear, no matter how logical, does not lead to trust. And trust is only logical when it attaches to the unchanging, unfailing, all-knowing, totally securing power of God.
With a couple of sighs, I did it. First in my head, then in my heart. I don’t have the control I think, so to take responsibility for pieces of life God never prepared me to manage makes me absent for the things He wants me to do.
Of course, there is no permanent “let go” trick. I will need reminders. Probably even a push. The biggest reminder will always be what waits on the other side of letting go. That heart-stilling peace that makes any form of worry an intruder.
When I am ready to do anything for that peace, I will let go. .