We learn to release in tiny increments, although those steps represent monumental heart blips in life.
When we help our five year-olds zip up their new backpacks, then watch them walk away from us toward the kindergarten room. They feel excitement as they begin the educational journey. With tears, we pray for strength to let them go. We release them to the system, to the process of learning, to embracing social skills and finding their direction in life.
Release continues: the first time they drive alone, first dates, first college visit. Then 18 short years after we push them through the birth canal, we release them as they launch toward college or the workplace.
Release carries with it the stretching grief of necessary growth.
During this season, I work on releasing Mom into the final stages of Alzheimers, knowing what the end result will be – what it must be.
Release for her will result in a glorious heavenly welcome while it spontaneously leaves us missing her and longing for our own release. The hope of a future release and the relief of eternity with God.
Last week, I posted about the prayers I have whispered and my place in God’s waiting room.
For a life-long planner like me, it is difficult to make the plan a reality when I cannot hear the answer and do not know the direction. Waiting requires a type of release – letting God work his miracle timing and trust that he knows – always – the best ending for my questionings.
The prophet Isaiah foreshadowed our need for release. “These things you carry about are loaded as burdens on the weary beasts” (Isaiah 46:1).
We can choose to carry the burdens – to sacrifice peace by loading our hearts with worry and fear.
Or we can release our prayers, visions and dreams into the capable hands of a wise God who knows the end from the beginning.
My task is to speak God’s truth, write his words, then release everything to his care.
His role is to work it all out so that others will be drawn to his love and ultimately find their final release in his home.
Still waiting and staying in hope, but trusting that release will usher in the answers.
©2016 RJ Thesman – Author of the Reverend G books http://amzn.to/1rXlCyh
Good morning R.J. I was checking my emails on my phone and your post came across early. I am in my bathroom getting ready for the day and tears are already running down my face about my own circumstances. I was already asking the Lord for strength for this day’s journey. Funny that when I saw your post come across I ‘eagerly’ read it. The tears flowed even more as my heart ached for you and all of our sisters and brothers in the Lord and for the non-believer. So much trouble and so much pain. I cried to the Lord right then for help for His people through the trials we endure. A verse came to me: “Rejoicing in hope; patient in tribulation; continuing instant in prayer” Romans 12:12. “Oh God help us” was my further cry. The tears are still flowing, but they will stop soon. I asked Him to give me release and expectancy, while my husband and I continue to “wait until [our] change comes”. You, your mom, and your dear family are never far from my heart and prayers.
Thank you so much for your prayers and for the wonderful reminder of Romans 12:12. God is with you as well, holding you in the palm of His hand.
A needed and valuable perspective. Thank you for this vital reminder. To trust.
Thanks, Jerry – it does seem that everything always comes back to trust.
Amen.
And amen.
Ahh, the waiting room. Been waiting for years now–same song, different verse.
Yes – learning patience, aren’t we?