A little over halfway between the top of the steep hill and the lake below, a rope swing hung from a tall tree. The oldest two girls and my husband scampered down the hill and jumped in line to swing into the lake. Those three have no fear. They each took a turn, grabbing the swing with both hands, pushing off the ground with their bare feet, and swinging through the air until they hovered high over the water when they’d let go and splash into the lake.
But the youngest . . . well, she’s a lot like me. After standing back and watching the fun for about fifteen minutes, she finally decided to try it. She timidly walked to the rope, and her daddy passed the handle to her. Little arms straight up, she held that rope for an eternity. All the other kids were so patient, encouraging her to go for it. For a long time, I just held my mommy breath. I didn’t want her to be afraid, and I certainly wanted her to act on courage, but I knew the fear she felt.
The fear of not knowing when to let go . . .
After close to ten minutes of standing there, arms in the air, hands wrapped tightly around the handle, she stepped away. Her arms were hurting. Everybody was a little disappointed that she’d missed out. But while she rested her arms, she gathered her courage.
A few minutes later, she grabbed the rope handle with determination, and assumed the position again. She looked at her daddy and asked if he would let her know when it was time to let go.
He assured her he would yell, “Now!” when it was time for her to drop into the lake. A few more moments of gentle coaxing and reassurance from the crowd, and suddenly, she was flying through the air. I held my breath and snapped photos as her daddy yelled “Now!” She let go, her long, blonde hair flying straight up as she descended into the water with a splash.
She came up out of the water smiling, admitting how fun it was. She crawled up the hill and jumped a couple more times, each time with her daddy watching over her, yelling “Now!” when it was time to let go.
My mommy heart was so proud of her because I know how hard it is to let go when everything inside is screaming to hold on.
* * * * *
Sometimes the pain of holding on becomes greater than the fear of letting go.
What are you holding that you need to let go?
That job. That person. That grudge. That dream. That belief system. That addiction. That fear.
We have a choice as to when we should let go. Do we let go because we give up, or do we take the leap and let go in the places where we’ll find the greatest joy? If we’re listening, we can hear the One who loves us and is watching over us yell “Now!”
