Holding on, Letting go

Friday June 26, 2015

As moms, we spend our lives trying to strike a balance.

How much to hold on, how soon to let go.



I'm writing at The MOB Society today about Staying Close As You Let Go.

And in that spirit, I offer you some poetry written for my first son as he graduated from high school. Its message resounded for each of my boys (and for many of their friends, my students) as they "left the nest."

FLUTTER AWAY

There it is – The fluttering.

You can always hear it this time of year
As they perch on the edge, wings flapping madly, oh-so-ready to take the plunge.

This year it’s deafening.
I not only hear the fluttering
I feel it
Right in the pit of my stomach…
No, in the bottom of my heart.

This time there are so many who have a place in my heart.
As I watch them turn and smile and wave
I see chubby little hands linked in friendship
I recall trips to Ocean World
Choo-choo train birthday parties,
Boosterthon and field day so long ago.

But this is the way of things.
Seasons change; things grow and flower.
It’s part of His grand design.

So, go ahead.
Flap really hard as you step off.
And don’t look down.
Keep your eyes above and your hand in His.

Flutter on.
Flutter away.

Too Much to Carry

Monday August 18, 2014 

Sometimes there's just so much to carry.

And it gets to be too much.

What do you need to lay down today? 



Concerns about the future?

Doubts about yourself? About your parenting?

Worries about that son or daughter you’re sending off to college?

One day Moses, carrying his staff, met God.

Now, a staff isn’t a bad thing. It can be used for good—to walk, to direct sheep, even to ward off predators.

But God told Moses to throw it down. 
So he did. 

And after Moses picked up that staff, it was never referred to as “his” again; it was forever after called “the staff of God” or “the rod of God.” 

What do you need to lay down today? 
What are you holding so tightly to, trying desperately to wield in your own power? 

Throw it down.
Give it to God and pick it back up in His power, with His strength. 

There will still be tough hard times, but your strength will come from Him, not from you.
Moses held up his hands during the battle in Exodus 17 (likely with that staff), and they dropped after a time.

But what did Moses do?

He focused on God and what God would do. 
He let others come alongside him to hold his hands up. 

You can do that.

Throw it down—whatever you’re holding in your own power.
Give it to God.
Pick it back up in His name, with His strength.
Focus on Him. Let others help hold your hands up.

What do you need to lay down today?

I'm linking up today with Laura at Playdates with God and Jen at Soli deo Gloria Sisterhood.

Letting Go, Holding On

Thursday August 4, 2011

“All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.” (Havelock Ellis)

Letting go.
Holding on.

So much of life is comprised of these two things. It’s a delicate balance, this art of living—how we mingle the letting go with the holding on.

Sometimes it works; it’s right. It’s time. And it’s a joy to watch.

This mom is still learning the balance, but at times, it’s a real pleasure. Such a simple one, you hardly notice it.

And that’s the beauty of it.



Linking up today with Dayle for Simple Pleasures.

Thoughts to Help You Through the Week

Monday September 13, 2010


There’s a truth you need to know, Mom. You need to repeat it, believe it, and let it permeate your heart.

You’re important – valuable and significant.

You mean so much to the life of your family. Think of all you do for the family – it’s not hard! We make a list of these things in our heads when we feel underappreciated.

But there’s more to mothering than laundry and loading the dishwasher:

You help mend broken hearts and wounded feelings.
You teach conflict resolution.
You encourage, cheer, lift up.
You introduce little hearts and minds to the wonder of life.
You love, even in the face of rolled eyes or constant bickering.

At this point, you may be thinking, “Oh, I usually do, but I really blew that one today.”

Who doesn’t? Which leads me to the other thought you need to make yours today.

It doesn’t all hinge on you.

Yes, you’re valued – in fact, invaluable to your child’s heart. But all of his or her life does not hinge on you. There are – and will be – other influences in your child’s life that will make a big impression. And that’s good. In His grace, God has provided for our kids. But you’re not the sole provision.

So don’t try to be it all, do it all. At first you have to provide so much for a helpless little one, but even then – let Dad do what he can do. As your son or daughter grows, lead and guide and finally, assume the role of coach – not actually in the game, but cheering and supporting and helping with the game plan at times. You can take on that coach role someday only if you’ve stepped back little by little along the way.

Loosen your grip. Let him try. He may fail, but he’ll learn. You’ll be there, cheering him on. Someone else may lend the first hand to help him up at times, but that’s okay. And sometimes, he’ll get up on his own. But he’ll turn and look for your affirming smile.

Remember this week – you are oh-so-valuable. But the good news is, it doesn’t all hinge on you.

So little by little, loosen your grip.

Do you struggle with being everything for your child? How do you find the strength to let go?

Letting Go: A Bittersweet Blessing

Monday August 16, 2010



I’m writing this on Sunday evening and it’s been an emotionally draining day. After all, it’s not every day you send a son off to college.

He leaves tomorrow, and I feel like Andy’s mom in Toy Story 3. Remember that scene when she goes in his room and has a flashback of his boyhood and growing up years? Yep, that’s pretty much been me all day.

Tomorrow is the first day of school for me, so there’s anticipation all over the place – and so much to do!

It’s so bittersweet, this growing up thing. He’s doing what we’ve raised them to do, and I’m so proud of him! But I miss his little hand in mine, chubby arms around my neck, and that unmistakable sweet baby scent.

I know it’s the way of things. It’s a natural part of life, and I’d feel I had missed so much if he never got to this point. But my heart aches, all the same.

So what do I do? I open my tightly clenched fists and let go. I look up the path, and there’s another mom who’s been there, with her hand outstretched. I drop my pride and accept her support.

But I don’t stop looking – I glance behind me and see a mom who needs encouragement. What good is my experience if I don’t share it? And personally, I look up, for I know that’s where my real help comes from.

The ache subsides. It will hit me again at times, but I’m encouraged.
I know I’m not alone.

My First Mother's Day: Lessons Learned

Saturday May 8, 2010
I was exhausted, but happy. I wore the babe in my arms like a badge of honor. I’d made it through a little over three months of motherhood with a colicky little boy.

The doctor said he’d show some improvement at about three months, and that he had. He cried less, smiled more, relaxed a bit. I still worried inside that he’d never be a truly happy child. (Silly me!)

We sat in Steak and Ale enjoying a Mother’s Day Lunch. He slept, he fidgeted, he woke, he fussed – and I held him. One arm full of sweet baby boy and a fork in the other, balancing motherhood with sustenance.

Dad offered to hold him, to calm him, to give me a break. But I worried that he’d fuss; I said, “No, he’s fine.” I think I felt I held the magic, that only I could soothe him. Dad wasn’t with him every day, all day. He didn’t know all the little tricks I knew.

After all, I was Mom; I was supposed to know how to calm and soothe my son. It rested on me, didn’t it?

I can still close my eyes and see that day, that room, that sweet babe. Feel the weight of him in my arms, the ache between the shoulders that holding him so long brought. Even now, a knot rises to my throat as I think of his sweet baby scent and those clear, bright eyes, the precious smile he bestowed more every day.

The lessons? They took years of boys to learn. Perhaps I knew them with my head at the time, but my mom heart was so overpowering that I listened to its beat.

I held no magic other than the usual mom magic, and I wasn’t the only one who could bring peace to my child. And it didn’t all rest on me.

Their dad, first of all, was – and is – more than able to teach and guide and console. In a way, I suppose this post is a precursor to Father’s Day. Without my dear husband, what kind of mom would I be?

I look back and see the village that brought love and learning and comfort to my boys, and I’m thankful. So often in those early days, I thought it all rested on me, that I could and should control so much. I still do that at times, when I’m spending too much time looking in the mirror and not enough time looking toward the One who loves me – and them.

When I gaze on Him, my heart can rest. I’m reminded it’s not all up to me, for there’s One who loves my sons with an even greater love.

Letting Go

Tuesday March 16, 2010

I know what we do is important.

But they do, at some point, make their own choices.

My husband is a case in point. Check out this conversation:

He: At my house growing up, there was nothing to snack on! No chips, no pretzels…If you wanted to snack, Mom would say, “Go get some saltines.”

Me: Hmm. Then how did you become the inveterate snacker that you are today?

He: It was a lot of work. It was a challenge, and I worked very hard at it.

This from a man who is not a beanpole, but he’s not the 350 lbs. I would be if I snacked like he does. (So unfair, isn’t it?)

His mama tried. She didn’t raise him with a cabinet full of chips, but he does love his snacks now. And perhaps she planted a seed – sometimes he buys lightly salted chips.

But, see? At some point, they make their own choices.

We moms do the best we can, then at some point, we have to let go.

We can’t be responsible for everything they do and say the rest of their lives.

So, do the best you can.
Impart wisdom, give guidance, love them, and pray.

Then let go.