Letting go

A few weeks ago we decided last minute to light floating lanterns and send them off from the dock over the lake near our house for Kalea’s birthday.

It ended up being a really hard day. The kind of day that is only beautiful in retrospect. Neither of us wanted to talk about it or about her. We wanted her birthday to slip in and out silently. And yet, every quiet, still moment had me leaking tears.

That night we let off lanterns with a small group of family. Even knowing that these lanterns were supposed to be released into the air, I was surprised by how hard it was to let go! Even when they were full of hot air, bobbing, and anxious to meet the sky I still had this weird urge to keep holding on because it felt so counterintuitive to just let it go. I had this weird fear of losing them knowing they’d drift beyond my ability to recall them.

Its like the stomach-dropping moment as a kid when you accidentally let go of a helium balloon outside and stand dejectedly as you watch it shrink smaller and smaller as until it’s a speck in the sky. It’s that feeling of— if I let go, there’s nothing I can do— this will be entirely out of my control.

It’s a helpless, hopeless feeling.

That night as we lit paper lanterns, released them, and watched them twinkle and dance across the lake as they rose in the night air— we are all struck by how beautiful they were.

I’ve been thinking about and processing this experience for a few weeks now. I keep coming back to the thought that those lanterns were only beautiful because we let them go.

We could have held onto them standing out there on the dock— but we would have never seen what they were made to do. They were made to be released— to return to the sky and to bring light to the darkness.

And maybe that’s how her life was supposed to be too.

I keep thinking the principle of creating space in life for good things to come. I keep marveling at how God is able to take empty spaces and fill them. Melvin J Ballard said, “A person cannot give a crust to the Lord without receiving a loaf in return.” I know that’s true.

Here’s our emptiness Lord— fill it. Heres our open space Lord— use it. Here’s our letting go Lord— lead us.