Never Let Go

In the spring, the world was riveted by a viral video filmed in Costa Rica showing wildlife rescue workers returning a baby sloth to its mother. The baby had lost his grip on her and fallen from the tree, where they found him crying. After checking the infant for injuries, the workers played a tape of his cries, and the mother responded by slowly inching her way down the tree to retrieve her offspring.

As I watched the drama unfold, I was reminded of an old family motto, "Never let go," which was born on a lake in North Carolina many years ago.

For as long as I can remember, my family vacationed at a rural lake near my grandfather's childhood home. Hot summer days were filled with boating, swimming, skiing, camping, and exploring. After I grew up and had kids, I introduced them to the lake and made new memories. One of our favorites involved a giant circular tube we would pull behind the boat. Without getting too crazy, the goal was to flip the rider off as we circled and bounced over the wake.

One time, while my oldest son was riding, he narrowly avoided being thrown off, then victoriously shouted, "Never let go!" We howled with laughter, especially when he fell from the tube, holding the handle so tightly that it came off with him. And as he popped out of the water, there it was, still tightly gripped in my son's hand, ripped threads dangling and his face triumphant as he whooped, "I never let go!"

Following that light-hearted moment, the rallying cry became a family motto. We would use it to mean, "Don't give up. You can do it!" But as the years passed and the waves of life sometimes grew intimidating, what started as a joke began to have a different meaning. As the little sloth's dilemma illustrated, I learned that sometimes holding on isn't enough, especially if I’m holding onto the wrong things.

Though a tight grip couldn’t protect my son from being thrown during the tubing incident, it made him feel safer and gave him the illusion of control. And unfortunately, that's how I often find myself living, even when many of the things I grab onto are no more helpful than that ripped tube handle. Yet I hold fast anyway, feeling a false sense of security and autonomy. Oftentimes, it takes being thrown by life circumstances to recognize my error.

I cling to health, financial stability, relationships, and my ability to "do." I often find myself clutching worry, fear, and doubt. I struggle to release the belief that I can fix things myself. And I even hold onto the opinions of others as if what they think determines my worth. With a death grip, I am sometimes reluctant to loosen my hold on unhealthy habits, ungodly thoughts, and possessions that crowd out my time. Other times, I have thoughtlessly doubted God and have caught myself buying into unbiblical, worldly narratives and ideas.

Especially in hard seasons or moments, it's easy to forget what brings real help and hope and instead grab onto lies. Though I have spent tremendous energy banking on earthly things to anchor me, I have been known to casually release or hold my trust in God loosely. I am so busy trying to keep myself on the tube that I forget He created the water. Though I have watched Him work in my heart and my life for decades and know He is entirely trustworthy, I am quick to disregard Him as the waves of daily life hit me.

When I was young, I rode to my grandparents' house with my aunt and her English bulldog, Chopper. As we exited the car, I begged to be allowed to walk the dog after the long ride. My aunt hesitated because I was small, and Chopper was strong. But finally, she consented, admonishing me to absolutely not let go of the leash. Everything started okay until Chopper pulled me underneath a tree with lower-hanging branches, then decided to run circles around it. True to my word, I didn't let go of the leash. Instead, I held on as the dog dragged me around it, branches scratching my face, skin bleeding until finally, my aunt's voice rang through my panic: "let go of the leash!"

To live for and in Christ, the only source of authentic security and peace, I am having to learn to recognize when I am grasping temporal things that have no power to save or protect me and might even harm me. When I catch myself, I pray, asking Him to help me let those things go and trust only in Him.

As the world rocks with more and more chaos and as I grow older, "Never let go" resonates with me more powerfully. But, these many years after my son first birthed the motto into our family lore, it no longer makes me want to try harder. Instead, it reminds me to cling tighter to Jesus. Because I can see that earthly things can’t secure me permanently, just as that sloth mama in Costa Rica couldn't keep her baby from falling out of the tree. Even the people we love most can't promise to always be with us. Only God can. And most importantly, even when I forget what I know or am too weak to hold onto Him, He’ll never let go of me.