Loosed Grip


My life changed drastically when I reached a level of acceptance. I could identify the facts, but had rejected their truth and lived many of my days with a disgruntled disposition, and an unrelenting drive to replace the truth with something that better suited my sense of worth, accomplishment, and control over life. But sometimes it’s best to accept the facts, let the truth exist, and yield to it for a time.

The application of this lesson is limitless, but I’ll share a situation that serves as an example of the type of thing I’m talking about. Here’s the lesson:

The facts: five people, 2 bedrooms, homeschooling, spending most of our waking hours in this smallish space, messes pop up, papers spread all over the joint, books piled on all surfaces, dishes in constant need of hand-washing, dress-up clothes strewn about, and the work work work to stay on top of it–which, if graded, I was a C- student.

What fighting the facts enabled within: turmoil, begrudging toil, limited perspective, grumbling, comparison, and from that, the robbery of joy.

What acceptance enabled within: peace, knowing the place/time for such work, perspective on what is most important, thankfulness for the time we had together, gratefulness for creative play, and a clearer sense of the need for order coupled with our collective priorities. Yes, priorities. Letting go of an ideal enabled my heart to float throughout the day toward whichever need was most pressing. Reading books with my little ones over scrubbing toilets. Building lego creations over task-task-task. Art projects before mopping.

I’m no advocate for disaster that discombobulates home-dwellers and impedes daily flow, but I’m talking about that change of heart and focus–a loosed grip. Sometimes this letting go is a drawn out process, as change tends to be. And yet, on rare occasion, there is a Damascus road experience that stops the pilgrim dead in her tracks, and the blinding light of truth is so very real that the only response that the heart can offer is acceptance and surrender.

There may not be a Damascus road around these parts, but the experience of sudden shift of heart is all the same powerful, and by no means place-specific. And to that brilliant light that illuminates and awakens at the most unexpected places/times, I offer my humble thanks and immediate response: I let go.


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