It's Time

Have you ever helped a child learn to ride a bike? I don’t know any way to do it other than grab onto a handlebar with one hand, the back of the seat with the other, and run along with the child until they develop their own balance. As any biker knows, crashing is not fun, so parents hang on tight, issuing orders like “Pedal faster!” and “Don’t look at me; watch where you’re going!” Remember what it was like, though, when you finally let go? At first I didn’t want the kids to know so I would run along side calling, “Keep going!” But when they pulled ahead of me and I could no longer keep up with them, pride turned quickly to panic. I knew what skinned knees and cut hands felt like and my kids were learning on gravel roads, which was worse than pavement. Suddenly I was yelling, “Stop! Push the pedals backward! Stop! Sto-o-o-o-p!”

I’ve had that same reaction in other areas of life. As a parent, a teacher, and a caregiver, letting go has always been difficult for me, yet I know it is an inevitable part of life and as important as hanging on. The trick is in the timing. Whether it is dreams, ideals, relationships, goals, strife, or life, there is a time for hanging on and giving it all the tenacity you’ve got while also asking God to help fill in the thin spots. If we quit before we start, before we weather some mistakes and bumps and bruises, we don’t accomplish much. Yet, there is also a time for letting go that is just as healthy, though, for me, much harder. It is easy to think of letting go as failure, but when the timing is right, it is not failure but the willingness to let change happen, to move ahead, to enter the unknown. I cannot become better at anything unless I hang onto my mistakes long enough to learn from them and then let them go so they don’t become permanent stumbling blocks. As dynamic beings, our goals, dreams, and relationships must grow and alter to better fit new situations and new phases. In my life, my biggest challenges have been in letting go of grudges, preconceived ideas, people and pets I love, and control.

Faith is said to be a gift, but I also think it is a choice, a verb, and I choose to believe the journey through this flesh-and-blood life is not all there is. Perhaps that choice is a comforting way of hanging on, but I am also learning that practicing such a faith involves a lot of letting go. So, as Mom’s grip on this life weakens, I struggle for the readiness to let her move on without me for a spell.