Matthew's Gospel, The Tower Card, & Letting Go

Last week I spent time editing next week's podcast episode, which features my friend Kevin Sweeney talking to us about his book, "The Joy of Letting Go".

Now.

Before I say anything, let me say this - this book is a keeper and this episode is a gem. Kevin is such a gentle soul who has profound wisdom to share regarding God and faith and all the things. I actually listened to it TWICE - once while editing the audio and again while editing the video and each time I picked up something different.

That said, I came to realize this morning that I'm exhausted from the many times this season of my life has called me (even forced me) to "let go" of something. I was telling Jesus this morning over coffee that I can't possibly let go of anything else.

Last Spring our dog passed away.

In March my dad passed away.

Later that month we said "goodbye" to Jordan being 5.

Then she lost her bottom baby teeth.

Her top tooth is hanging by a thread.

In May we said "goodbye" to Kindergarten.

In a few weeks we'll say "goodbye" to Summer.

A few weeks ago we learned that friends of our family passed away in an absolutely horrific way - a mother and her two little children.

I'll cry when I take down Jordan's blowup pool and put it away for the Winter.

I'll shed some tears when I walk into an empty house after dropping her off for her first day of first grade.

... The list of things go on, but you get the picture. Sure, some of these things are HUGE (like the death of my father) while others are seemingly small (like Jordan losing her teeth), but my point is that I'm tired of constantly having to let go - month after month after month, one thing after another after another after another.

Anyways.

And so this morning I was telling Jesus about this and detailing how unfair life is and then I took my Tarot cards and asked the Spirit to encourage me with a card.

"I'm tired, God. I feel like the well of my tears is drying up and I just can't imagine letting go of one more thing. Please, tell me it's going to be OK."

I shuffled them.

And shuffled them.

And shuffled them some more.

The card I pulled was "The Tower" and the book that came with this particular deck ("The Luna Sol Tarot") had this to say ...

"All that surrounds you has shattered. The universe is falling to pieces. The heavens have opened up and swallowed the world as you know it whole. The Tower signifies a great ending. The structures that make your life feel stable are adjusting and moving beneath your feet. But fear not - the biggest endings lead to the most transformative beginnings. In this time of change, try your hardest to let go of what is passing away and embrace what new structures can be made with the materials of the old. This change is not always a negative one and not always external. Our worlds can be blown to pieces by a flash of inspiration ... there is energy flowing through you. Give into it and see where it takes you."

Sigh.

"But letting go is hard, God. And I don't thing I can do it anymore”, I said.

And then I was reminded of Jesus' parting words at the end of Matthew's Gospel. In chapter 28 Matthew tells us that although the disciples worshipped Jesus, "some doubted" and that Jesus told them that he would be "with them always".

I wrote about this in my latest book, "Emerging From the Rubble", but I guess even I (the author of the book!) needed a reminder today - that my doubts and fears and exhaustion has a home in the presence of Jesus who promises to never leave me nor forsake me.

Right?

We often read the end of Matthew's Gospel and focus on "The Great Commission" where Jesus commissions his disciples to head out and "make disciples of all nations".

BUT.

Here?

In the very same breath Matthew tells us that these world changing disciples doubted and that in the midst of their doubt Jesus' promise stood strong - he would be with them always.

What's that all mean for me? I'm not sure, honestly. I'm still processing it all, but today as I look around at my crumbling tower and take stock of everything that feels like it's on fire and exploding around me, I remember that I am not alone in my letting go - Jesus The Christ has promised to never leave me nor forsake me and I envision him with his hands wrapped around mine as the ashes of my beloved Towers slip through my fingers and fall to the tear covered ground below.

I'm not sure what you're being called/forced to let go of these days, but I do trust that you aren't alone. And I also trust that on the other side of this horrific season is a birth canal that will bring you to something fresh and new.

Oh.

And I also know that it's OK to have your doubts, that your doubts about tomorrow don't negate Jesus' presence in your life today.

Much love,

- Glenn || SUPPORT THE PODCAST