The phrase jumped off the page. “Let go and let God.”
I flinched.
And then I asked myself why. Why did that phrase cause an automatic response within me?
I was sitting among several kindred spirits. The person who read the devotion had no idea I winced.
As a pastor, I sometimes heard it in the context of a problem. Someone might say, “We’re behind in budget,” or “Attendance is down,” or “We don’t have anyone to keep the babies during worship.”
Then someone else would shrug their shoulders and say, “Just let go and let God,” and walk away.
So, I came to associate the phrase with an excuse for passivity when action was needed.
When the people of Israel wavered at the Red Sea, grumbling to Moses (they did that quite often), suddenly opting for the security of slavery in Egypt over the fear of freedom in an unknown land, Moses told them to take courage, “Just watch the Lord rescue you today,” he pleaded.
But instead of saying, “Yes, Moses, coddle the clan, just let go and let Me, God asked Moses: “Why are you crying out to me?” And then God commanded, “Tell the people to get moving!” (Exodus 14:15).
So, I felt justified in my distaste of that quip, “Let go and let God.” It’s no good to “let God” when it’s time to “get moving.”
It reminds me of the farmer who inherited a field in miserable condition. It took him months to clear away the brush, dead timber, and rocks. Finally, he was able to fertilize the ground and then plow the field. The soil looked rich, ready to receive seed and produce an abundant crop. A passerby commented, “God has blessed you with a beautiful field.”
I love the farmer’s response: “Yes, he has, but you should have seen it when the Lord had it all to himself.”
But then, I dug deeper into my psyche, again asking myself why I cringed at the “let go and let God” phrase.
Yes, there are times when, as Delilah taunted Samson, “the Philistines are upon you” (Judges 16:20), and a leap into action is required.
But then again, perhaps my dislike of that phrase had something to do with my desire to control matters.
I could DO something and increase revenue; I could Do something and increase attendance. I could Do something and get teachers in the right place. I could, I could, I could.
And when I did, I could be tempted to publicly praise God while privately patting myself on the back.
God acts when we surrender to Him. It sounds counterintuitive, but when I let go and let God, he uses me to accomplish his will. “Not my will by thine be done” is a prayer of surrender to let go and let God. It’s not a concession to apathy. Paul the Apostle, a man on the move if ever there was one, said, “When I am weak, then I am strong.” It was when he admitted his inability, surrendering his weakness to God, that God made him strong in his weakness.
Yes, Samson did jump into action, but sadly, he had grown so accustomed to his own strength he wasn’t aware until it was too late that the Lord had left him.
If left to ourselves, we become cheerleaders in our own fan club, applauding our abilities, talents, and savoir-faire.
Until ourselves is all we’ve got.
I appreciate Father Don Dolindo Ruotolo’s simple prayer, “O Jesus, I surrender myself to You, take care of everything.”
It’s in surrendering ourselves to God that God does take care of everything, maybe not in the way or the timing we think best or like, but in God’s way, which is always best. God does take care of everything, if not in this life, then in the next.
Moses reminded the people, paralyzed in fear on the shores of the Red Sea, “The Lord himself will fight for you. Just stay calm.”
Yes, stay calm. Then, get up and cross that river. And remember, God is the one who parts the waters.
“O Jesus, I surrender myself to You, take care of everything.”
And He does.
When we let go and let God.