Skip to main content

The Courage To Let Go

I journey down country roads, beholding field after field sprinkled in sunshine petals.  Cornstalks stand to attention in perfect rows.  We're still in the last days of summer but there's this waiting - waiting for a new season, a new breath.  Autumn is crouched around the corner; I can feel it.

I wash the plates from dinner while that tall one dries and I listen to his plans for the future and they don't line up with what I want.  I'm proud of him but my heart worries.  Lights go out, beds turn down, and in the black I'm left with his suffocating words.

No one told me when I became a mother the hardest part would be in the letting go.

The dawn greets us.  We open books, devour their contents, and I look at these faces knowing my time with them will all to soon come to an end.  So we laugh and pile on the couch and read about an ordinary woman who really was an extraordinary women.  She went from one Jewish mother to the next pleading for their children.  Her heroic efforts saved 2,500 souls from the mass slaughter of the Holocaust.  But she could not have saved even one if it had not been for the courageous mothers who let their children go.

I sit with this thought all day.  For their children to live, they had to let go.

Rocking Michaela into a slumber I weep as I gaze upon the Maple under which Miriam sleeps.  I should be rocking them both.  And I'm overcome with the reeling of what those mothers felt.  How would I feel if someone came for the babe in my arms?  The storm comes whipping against the green foliage.  Soon the whole tree will be ablaze standing in it's full glory.  Then one by one her limbs release each leaf and they'll fly away.

Change is inevitable.  In time everyone leaves - dies.

These children - they're a gift - but they have never been mine.  I know this.  They were only entrusted to me for a time.  My job has never been to mold them into what I want or think they should be, but to help them find the path God has for them and then - let go.

Beneath the star-studded sky, I pray...for the courage and strength to let go.

Until then...
Jessie

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Light Always Wins

 I was seven when I stepped foot into the Tel Aviv Airport accompanied by my stepdad - a Palestinian. The Israeli soldiers stood armed as they ripped through each of our suitcases, pulled my dad into a room for questioning, and detained us for several hours. We were not there as tourists. We were on our way to Jericho to visit family... but we were the enemy. Even at seven the hatred between all was undeniable. As a child I did not comprehend fully but I remember...fear. Walking the roads of that country for a month is an experience I will never forget. I remember once being at a family member's home while they argued over who was right, the Jews or Palestinians. I remember the tears, the anger, and shouting. I can't recall most of the words spoken that day. I don't know whose argument was stronger. What I do know is...what the Bible says about God's chosen people, and that in war... no one wins...even when it is necessary there is always suffering for both sides. The J...

We Have A Baby!!!

It's about time! IT'S A BOY!!!     Malakai James Lutz 7 pounds 14 ounces 20 inches     Until then... Jessie 

Judgment Loomed

As I exited the door my heart was pierced with their animosity.  Hatred and poison spewed from their lips.  Murderer!  Whore!  Baby killer!  You'll rot in Hell for what you did!  Over and over...  The savage mob encircled me with no escape.  Screaming just a breath away from my face.  Shoving with such force I was almost knocked to the ground.  They spat in my hair.  Humiliated.  Tears streamed down my cheeks as I pushed through the violence.  Once inside my car I began to weep.   Even in the present their vile words reel through my mind.  Beads of sweat began to form in my tightly clinched fists.  Squirming in my chair... biting my lower lip as an attempt to hold it together.  Peering above the Pastor's head as though I was looking at him... knowing if I did I would burst into tears.  That was my experience at church...