It seems I’m to learn about letting go.
I’m learning to let go.
Lessons started late last summer. Someone who bullied my husband and
Letting Go of the View.
I didn’t want to move. Neither of us did. But the fatigue of watching each other’s backs and wondering when the next incident with this child of God would occur made our decision definitive. We had to move. We couldn’t continue to live like this.
I mourned the loss of our perfect home. For fifteen years, we watched mullets jump and osprey fight for their territory against the local eagles over the water. When fishing tournaments launched, we sat with drinks in our hands and counted over 100 boats inch their way out of the marina. On foggy mornings or sunny afternoons, we’d see tug boats glide by way across near the opposite shore.
Trusting that God would provide
We found a home. It had a small lake in the back – more like a pond – but we had a
Learning to Let Go of the Stuff
Our charitable tax deductions grew last year from all the belongings we pulled from cabinets and closets and the garage.
“You’re off to a good start,” said the realtor. We had more work to do, apparently, to stage the place. More ideas, attitudes, and items to release. It’s fascinating to watch how hard you hold onto stuff. A few months later, we had to let go of the lovely beach tone walls we had painted four years ago in order to paint everything a neutral color – something called greige, a mix of grey and beige that’s on trend for the moment.
On vacation, we had to let go of our fear that my husband’s condition would worsen before we’d return to the states and have his double hernia repaired. We let go of our desires to explore sites further since we were travelling with a group. and our desire for more sleep when the tour guide declared the departure time of 8:00 a.m.
After returning to the states, I had to let go of more sleep when I decided that I should drive five hours to our daughter’s home. She was nine months pregnant with pneumonia and two boys under five years old. She’d never get rest to heal without some help. I’d suffer from jet lag no matter where I slept.
Photo by meg.dai https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/2.0/
Countless letting go moments ensued over the next month before and after it came time
It’s hard letting go. I’m still working on letting go of the desire to retaliate against the child of God acting like a child.
(Learning to Let Go…to be continued in Part 2)
To hear the story of God’s Patient Pursuit of My Soul, A Memoir, go to Audible.com, iTunes or www.tinyurl.com/GodisPatient
Read the award-winning memoir of other lessons over forty years of learning how to grow my friendship with Jesus.