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Erica Galindo
Celebrating Food, Faith and Family
Last edited on: January 28, 2014.

Sure, the handwriting is on the wall, but it’s also right at our feet, in big capital letters.


Those were the two words painted on the San Franciscan cobblestones, right there on the Powell-Market line.

I was waiting in line with friends to ride a cable car when those words fluttered up from the stone, feathering down in my white-knuckle-prone self. I tilted my camera.


“Let go. LET GO.”

I believe this in my head: that those two words are a way to live a life of wild freedom, of radical trust in God. But I am still learning to actually and practically believe them in my heart. I also need to believe the words with my hands. Because here’s the truth:

I have been known to grip tight to what I love.

While standing right there, with pigeons strutting across the rails half a country away from my Iowa, I could boldly declare that “letting go” is my philosophy.

But I know I’ve lived otherwise. I’ve often thought that the best way to love a person is to hold on, vice-grip tight.

Letting go has always seemed — if I’m honest — dangerous.

Because, really, how does one let go of the child growing up too fast? Or the wayward teen who barges out of the house, slamming the door behind him, spewing hateful words? How do you let go of the mounting debt? Or the hurt inflicted by inattentive spouse? And what of the friend who might never come to know the truth of Christ’s teachings? How do you let go when the doctor delivers the terminal diagnosis?

Me? I’ve had trouble letting go of far lesser things — like too-small jeans and silly grudges.

But the handwriting is on the wall and on the ground, like a God-incidence begging to be read by the whole world:  Let. Go.

I learned later that the words, “Let Go,” are painted on the cobblestones as a reminder for the cable-car gripman to release the cable at just the right time. If the gripman fails to “let go,” he could inflict serious damage to the cables.

The gripman has to trust. He has to let go. Or he’ll make a mess of things. (Note to self.)

Unlike the gripman, I don’t always read the signs.

What if I could actually — as they say — “let go and let God?”

And what might that mean for those we love? I’ve got some stuff I need to let go of today, and maybe that’s why I’m replaying my visit to San Francisco.

I know that it’s a wild and radical leap of faith, to open up the hands. And I’m quite frankly, terrified.

If we let go of the string, a helium balloon floats up and away.  If we let go of the leash, the dog bolts. If we let go of the steering wheel, a car eventually veers of course. If we let go of the rope, we fall fast.

But in the upside-down Kingdom of God, letting go is a linchpin. I think now of Jesus, who voluntarily let go of His place in Heaven, hurling down through space and time to save a world begging for life.

Jesus Christ let go of Heaven, to hang on to us.

And he never lets go of us.



Read more encouragement by Jennifer in The Black Friday Miracle


Jennifer Dukes Lee used to cover crime, politics, and natural disasters as an award-winning news journalist in the Midwest. Now, Jennifer uses her reporting skills to chase after the biggest story in history: the redemptive story of Christ.  Soon, her words will make their way into her debut nonfiction Christian book, Love Idol: Letting Go of Your Need for Approval – and Seeing Yourself through God’s Eyes.She and her husband live on the Lee family farm in Iowa with their two daughters.

To learn more about the author, please visit Jennifer Dukes Lee



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