Letting Go

We were heading to Point of the Arches on the Pacific coast, but first we had to traverse about two miles on a muddy, slippery woodland trail. My son Tommy was in front, and my husband and I carefully followed his footsteps. We worked our way through ankle-deep mud. The fact that it was raining only made the hike more memorable.

We reached the crest of the trail that also marked the boundary of the Olympic National Park—we could see the ocean and the sun was breaking through the clouds. We headed down the hill. We had another two miles to hike south along the beach.

 


But my son wasn’t stopping there—he was continuing solo, another 12 miles south and spending the night along the coastline. He had a GPS locator and the needed provisions, but he would be climbing over huge boulders, to make it through the “tide critical” areas—which is exactly what it sounds like—you must get past those areas before the tide comes in and traps you. Comforting thought.

 

Times like this remind me how hard it is to let go—even with my adult children. Especially when it involves some risk taking. Tommy loves the outdoors; he loves his hiking business—and this was a “business trip.” He wanted to be able to tell other hikers what to expect along the route. 

 


But letting go isn’t limited to our kids. We let go of dreams that didn’t work as planned. We let go of losses that can’t be recouped.  There are times we must let go even when we’d rather hold on.

 

I watched Tommy begin his hike across the boulders towards those tide critical zones. I wondered if letting go ever gets easier. 

 

As I turned back, I realized that much of what I’ve learned to let go of, wasn’t really mine to hold onto—especially when it comes to my kids.

 

I’m just grateful that when I let go, I know God is always holding on and keeping watch.


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