Letting go does not come naturally. We hold on to the people we love, plans we’ve made, and outcomes we think should happen. Our grip on things is like a child clutching onto their security blanket. We believe that if we cling tightly enough, we can have everything just the way we like it.

However, life has a way of revealing how fragile our grip really is. Sometimes we give our all and still fall short. We are left torn between clinging to old ways or yielding with the words: “Not my will, but Yours.” To utter these words may feel like laying down the very thing we’ve fought hardest for. And in those moments, even prayers can grow heavy on the tongue, for surrender requires us to release what fear refuses to let go.

Yet, it is only when our hands are empty that God can fill them with something better.

Letting go can feel like that moment when we first learn how to swim. At first, we cling tightly to the edge, which is solid, dependable, and hence safer. But gliding along the edge was never the goal. We want to swim. And for that to happen, we must release our grip on what we feel to be our only lifeline. Though the start may be fraught with struggles to stay afloat, with time, we will discover the freedom of moving in the water. In the same way, we must release what feels secure, so that we can rely on Him to carry us where our grasp never could.

In Gethsemane, Jesus pleaded with the Father, but ultimately chose surrender: “Not My will, but Yours, be done.”(Luke 22:42). So it must be with us.

We may wrestle in prayer, murmuring and grumbling. Yet even in moments of deep agony, be reminded by Jesus’ example to pray more earnestly (Luke 22:44). What matters most is not the heaviness with which we begin, but the surrender with which we end. Are we willing to loosen our grip and let God take the lead?

The hardest prayer may initially feel like a loss. But it is there that we discover the gentle strength of God’s embrace, and His power to bring good even out of the darkest nights. The hidden work of letting go lightens what we carry inside, even if the world around us stays the same. The weight slips from our shoulders, and peace, which surpasses all understanding, will fill our hearts (Phil 4:7). We begin to see that God’s plan is wiser, kinder, and better than our own (Isa 55:9). In time, what feels like surrender becomes not defeat, but the seed of deeper faith.