Many of you grew up in a home where Christ was the center and it wasn’t unusual to see your father pray and read the Word. Christ wasn’t the center in the home I grew up in and the only time I ever saw my dad in church was at my grandmother’s funeral. My dad was and is a very special man. We weren’t always hugging and kissing, but when I hurt, I could see that hurt mirrored in Daddy’s eyes. Dad taught me how to jump rope and play jacks. He tried to teach me how to throw a rock like a boy instead of a girl, you noticed I said tried! Daddy trusted me, and because of his trust, I tried never to violate his faith in me. His opinion of my actions was always vital to me, and still is. You see for many years I have tried to tell him about a relationship with Jesus and he doesn’t want that. He will be eighty three soon and his healthy is very precarious. I have tried every way I know to share the Gospel with him. As I said, l know my dad loves me, and now it’s my turn to love my father in a different way. I must love him enough to let go, to place him into my heavenly father’s hands which are stronger than mine. To let go is the hardest thing I have ever done. I found this poem author unknown that really expresses my heart.
To let go doesn’t mean to stop caring, it means I can’t do it for someone else.
To let go is not to cut myself off, it’s the realization that I can’t control another.
To let go is not to enable, but to allow learning from natural consequences.
To let go is to admit powerlessness, which means the outcome is not in my hands.
To let go is not to try to change or blame another, I can only change myself.
To let go is not to fix, but to be supportive.
To let go is to fear less and to love more.
My addition is I have let go, but I still love, pray for, and listen to my dad.