White Knuckling It

A little over five years ago I walked timidly into a hospital room, just peeking my head in at first to make sure it was ok to go inside. And as soon as my head got inside the room (which by the way I had way more hair back then) I heard a little 4 year old voice say, "Travis, I'm a big brother!" My nephew was proudly wearing a tshirt that said the exact words that came out of his mouth. He wa

s so excited. "She even has bow in her hair today."

This was big moment in the VandeNoord clan. She was the long awaited girl that everyone had been pleading with God for. As I sat down in the ugly hospital chair, my brother picked up this newborn that was tightly bundled in a blanket and handed her to me. Pretty much love at first sight. (Ladies that doesn't mean there isn't chance of me saying that about one of you someday. Just throwing that out there.) For the next two hours I just held that baby and she cuddled up as close as she could as she slept. Janae Faith became the crown princess of the family without doing anything other than being.

Now fast forward to this past Christmas. The crown princess is now a ball of energy with a wickedly witty sense of humor and streak of independence that even makes me raise my eyebrows and smile. If you blink you will miss her. If want something from her, you are only going to get if she wants you to have it. And if you think she is afraid of anything, think again.

As the littlest one of the family she is still considered a baby. (And there won't be a littler one unless I get on the stick already. My parent made that point clear during the holidays as well.) So Grandpa always want to pick her up, Old Grandma always wants a kiss, and Uncle Jason . . . well, he still doesn't know what to do. But whatever they try to do to get her do what they want, it fails miserably. They are holding on with white knuckles.

So why do we do it? Why can't we let go? Perhaps I am one of the few that wonder this. Somewhere in the long history of living we have decided that holding on to things helps use remember or live on. It makes me think of my parents attic honestly. When you walk up there you see boxes and boxes of stuff. Things they stopped using the last couple of years, old rolls of wrapping paper that never get used, or half their wardrobe from the 1980's. (I know it is, I was alive then.) We all hear the stories of when people die how their house were full of "junk". But it wasn't junk to them. They were holding on to it for some reason.

But what about the other stuff we cling to that is inside of us. The last year and half has been an interesting one for me. Though I have written a lot about it here, there has been far more than I could ever really express, some things I kept private. Some would call it my baggage. But as I have read many people's blogs in the past few weeks I realize they have some baggage as well. And I am not talking about just the bad stuff. We are just a people that can't let go.

The cancer and sickness, the aloneness, the work frustrations, the hurts, the losses, the miscarriages, the break ups, the failures . . . . all these things to process and intellectually we think of how we need to let them go and we try to. But what about the victories, the successes, the good memories of past relationships, how great the way things use to be, or the perfection of how someone seemed to be years ago. Why do we hold on to that? In fact maybe we hold on more tightly to that than the rough stuff. How can we claim to be able to let go of anything when we have trained our hearts to hold on?

What if holding on to the good is just as hurtful as holding on to the bad? What if work success blinds us from seeing opportunities because we have a "good, secure job"? What if we expect someone to be there for us again after many years because that is the way it use to be, but now it's not? What if we miss out on the loving someone fully because we hold on to the "good memories" of a past relationship? Is it possible that holding to any of our past moments, good or bad, prevents us from fully being in the moment right now? How much worry comes from the "good baggage" as well?

During Rob Bell's Drops like Stars tour he eluded to the idea of "So what". So what you had cancer. So what you have a great job that you are "successful"in. So what . . . . But Rob then finally came to the right question, "So what now?" Letting go means letting it all go and looking for the now. Following where God is now. Loving someone now. Making a life better now.

So back to this little girl I love. This Christmas I just sat back and let her be the little girl she is and did not long for the little baby she was. I engaged her personality and we talked. Yes it was about dolls, the prospect of kindergarden, and her favorite color pink but that is what she is about right now. We named her new pillow pet, Leah (the 20th stuffed animal named Leah by the way). I just wanted to be in it with her and let go of my tight grip on the idea of wanting things to never change since that May day in the hospital. And you know what happened? About half way through the opening presents she crawled up on to my lap and cuddled a little and showed me the new Barbie I got her. Letting go brought her a little closer.