RIVERS: "Letting Go"

Letting Go

Many times, for birthday celebrations and special occasions, I will buy balloons.  They might come in different shapes, colors and sizes, but it just seems that balloons seal the deal with little kids.  On Valentine’s Day I brought home two balloons that screamed the occasion, and for the moment, my daughter was elated.

I even got the “Happy Valentine’s Day” balloon with the sound chip that balloons can come equipped with now.  It was a bit inappropriate, in that it played “You’re Still the One” by Orleans, but it conveyed my love for my daughter.  As I drove home with it, any little bump in the road would set off the sound chip, and anyone near had to endure the whole chorus of the song.

Valentine’s Day was great and as it passed, the balloons served as reminders of the wonderful evening we had together.  My daughter and I have this little tradition, though.  Cards get shaken for the money they hold and they get tossed.  Sweets get consumed, and toys get played with and balloons only have a couple of choices.  They pop or they deflate until they are thrown away.  Well, Karly and I have decided that we will release them and let them go.

How it became and tradition, I don’t know.  Maybe we just wanted to see how far they would float if we turned them loose.  Maybe I just didn’t want stray balloons left in my bedroom, startling me in the night by ominously looming over my head as I turn over.  But we just decided that it would be more interesting to release them into the wild blue sky, to whatever side of God’s closet balloons go to.  I don’t know, there’s just something about releasing them while they still have helium in them, while they can still rise that makes you feel you’re doing something profitable in the balloon-world for their inhabitants.  Some people collect the remnants and put them in a scrapbook, some take special pleasure in popping them, we let them go.

So, about a week later, when we were good and sick of hearing “Still the One,” when the balloons were meandering in the kitchen in a sad, melancholy way, we took them out to the back porch.  The sky was gray and it was a bit chilly with a slight, steady wind to our backs.  After we said our goodbyes to our one-time friends, we held them up to let them go.  The first balloon with the sound chip had the most helium.  We tapped it one good time to finally rid ourselves of the obnoxious song and turned it loose!  Wouldn’t you know it, as it rose into the air, and the song faded into the altitude, we thought we would be happy to be rid of it, but something about straining to hear the lyrics for the last time caused us, or at least me, to really take note.  The lyrics rang, “Still the one, that makes me shout. Still the one that I dream about.  We’re still havin’ fun, and you’re still the one.”

Higher and higher it rose, over the trees, over the highway, out of our neighborhood, until it diminished into a dot that we couldn’t make out anymore.  “I must be trippin,” I thought.  “I’m getting all sad over this silly balloon!” But the song was etched into my brain.

The second balloon was simpler in its written message, “I Love You” and much more plain looking.  It was more deflated, and for a second, as it hung close by just over our heads, we didn’t think it would make it into the wild.  But after a minute or so, and with some help from a gust of wind, it rose as well, and as though it lingered a little longer to say goodbye, it was finally taken by the current, and it was gone.  We waved to it, and as we did, I was sort of amazed at how I could become so attached to inanimate objects.

I began to think about why I was giving these balloons so much personality and emotion.  I realized that I’m at a point in my life where I need to let go of some things.  Sometimes I hold on to ideas, philosophies, memories, jobs and other things that have begun to droop and sag like those balloons.  My personality is such that I will hang on to these memories, songs, experiences, especially negative ones, and find myself refilling them with air to keep them around and strong, when they need to be released and let go.

Not only do I find that I hang on, but as life goes by, they build up and clutter my living space.  I have closets packed solid with clothes that I’ve not worn in years and will never wear again.  Even if I could fit them, they are out of style and finished.  I have drawers filled with trinkets that I would never use, wires that don’t fit any mechanism I have and pens that stopped writing years ago.  They take up space, and I can’t fit anything new into these drawers, but I’m holding on to the junk like it will be worth money someday.

In the recent few weeks, I’ve heard a few stories of older people finally passing away after long battles with disease and the effects of old age, and it makes me really think about why it’s never an option to let them go.  I always pray that God wouldn’t let them sleep until they have accomplished their work, but when they’ve made peace with God, why don’t I want to let them sleep?  Why won’t my life continue to grow and deepen in meaning after they have been laid to rest?  How do I know that my dogs won’t be a more wonderful blessing to someone else that needs companionship?  How do I know that cleaning out my drawers and my closets won’t make room for newer clothes that enhance my appearance, or gadgets that serve a meaningful function?  Maybe I’m afraid of the unknown.  Maybe I’ll regret not being able to get these things back.  But maybe I’ll grow as a result.

I’ll always remember the lesson my grandmother shared with me about pruning her peach trees when I came to visit and found many of the branches and green fruit cut away.  Some branches must be taken away, so that what remains may become more sweet and fruitful.  Sometimes, some things in life must be released and turned loose.  Maybe it’s not so bad.

“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die, a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away…He hath made everything beautiful in his time…” Eccl. 3:2-11.

Rivers, By Joel Kibble

Joel Kibble is a world renowned dynamic motivational speaker, singer, songwriter,
producer and member of the ten time Grammy Award winning group Take 6.


www.take6.com | www.facebook.com/take6