You may remember, back in August, I wrote an entire blog about our adventure in transplanting the two live oak trees we planted at our old house when each of the boys were born. It was quite an ordeal and some folks thought I’d lost my mind, but I was determined that this was the best choice for us. (I still am by the way.) But today, I find myself listening to the rain pouring down outside with an ache in my heart for one of our beloved trees.
I know, I know. It sounds dramatic. . . just read “Move the trees” for context.
The rain is especially troubling today because Noah’s tree, that was the biggest most beautiful live oak tree, is struggling to survive. It’s drowning from all the rain and there’s nothing we can do for it. The arborists have come to check on it multiple times. They showed me how to test the moisture level in the root ball with a big probe I bought at Home Depot . . . and it’s sopping wet. They instructed me to find a way to divert the water from the weep holes away from the base of the tree, which I “Macgyvered” up with a bunch of random drainage tubes. I’ve prayed for wind and sun. I’ve done everything they said might help and at this point, there’s nothing else that can be done for this baby.
Except to wait.
It’s an enormous exercise in letting go. I walk by the windows each day, just hoping and praying it will survive, knowing there’s not another thing I can do to help. I’m an eternal “fixer”. You better believe I’ve thought about tenting that root ball and digging a drain out the front of it! I never give up believing that if you just take action, you can change things. And yet, here I am watching the rain, completely powerless to change this. I’m finding solace though in the words of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow:
“The best thing one can do when it’s raining, is to let it rain.”
I can’t stop the rain. I can’t make the tree survive. I can’t change a darn thing about it. In this situation, the ONLY thing I can change is me. If I want to go on peacefully living (and not be shipped off to the looney farm), I have to loosen my death grip on the outcome I was dreaming of. I have to let go of the dreamy vision in my head, of the hundred-year-old oak tree with grandbabies swinging from the branches under the giant green canopy.
I have to accept the circumstances as they are.
And this is just a tree! I know you have circumstances in your life that are much bigger and more crucial than my tree. Quite honestly, so do I. The tree is simply a tangible illustration of the process of letting go of the things we cannot change. It’s about doing all you can, and then surrendering control.
It’s about letting it rain.
Maybe for you it’s a relationship you had high hopes for. Maybe it’s a child who’s gone awry. Maybe it’s a financial situation you find yourself in today. Maybe some of it is the result of choices you’ve made. Maybe none of it was. At this point, it doesn’t matter.
Here, you have a choice.
You have a choice of how you will respond. You can wallow in the pain of what seems lost. Or you can let it rain. You can choose to be grateful for the new life the rain brings.
If you’ve done all you can to change things, maybe it’s time to just let it rain.
to more love,
p.s. We might be “letting it rain”, but we aren’t letting the rain stop us from gathering for Girls Night Out! Today is THE last day for early bird pricing for the “Gather ‘Round GNO” on April 4th! It’s a lazy susan workshop you can gather your people around. Get your ticket today.