The Power of Saying "Let!"
How re-considering Genesis 1 can help you find freedom and others too!
At a recent retreat, I gave a talk on the power of the word, “let.” Seems like most, loved the talk. Through emails, texts and conversations, I keep hearing how much permission, freedom and acceptance this word: “Let” offers.
After all, God said, “Let” a lot! All you have to do is read Genesis 1 and you’ll see how the storyteller in that one holy book of glory and ruin stories, said, “Let…” Count the times! I have. It’s more than a few. Read it for yourself and you can see.
For many years, when reading the beginning story of life, I missed the word “Let.” I focused on who wrote it? Is it true? Is it literal? Is it believable? I think I missed the word “Let” altogether and missing this one word has caused me a lot of heartache.
What if the Storyteller is trying to tell us something we have missed in all our Bible studies on Torah and Romans? Seriously. So much Torah these days, isn’t there?. Too much for me, most days.
Everyone saying what is their “right” way to believe; their “right way of voting; their “right” way of telling everyone how to live and why.
When we don’t say “Let” we build walls and fences. We restrict creation—stop it actually.
All you have to do is raise your babies into a man-child or a woman-child and you have to learn to “let”. You have to let go. All you have to do is to let go of anyone or anything that has become too small for you—some thing, some creed; some one.
It’s not easy to “let” is it? But, wait a minute, why is it hard to “let”?
All you have to do is grow old and let. Who can control the micro-cell that the doctor somehow missed? We can live in blame. We can live in a house called cynicism. We can live in the chains locked up in our being thinking we are so, so right and so all knowing. And everyone else is so, so wrong. They act wrong. Believe wrong and live wrong.
Some denominations do that today. Some politicians too. Some patriarchs, maybe even matriarchs also.
What can any of us really control by our Torah and laws—our rules and regulations?
I’m not suggesting anarchy. I’m suggesting freedom. I am suggesting “let”.
I’m thinking of those brave souls who left their countries of heavy belief and political systems and taxes is search of something different. Maybe, they were searching to “let”. It was freedom that they desired. In short, they wanted a life of let. Isn’t this kind of freedom what makes us humans so radically different from birds, squirrels and earthworms? There is a power that one is given when they “let” and let go of control.
There is a peace we experience when we “let.”
At my age now, I, too, want more “let”. And at my age, it makes me want heaven more than ever—that glorious land of “let”. Ooh, I like the sound of living in the land called “let”. Maybe that’s what it means when the preachers say, “May she rest in peace.” Maybe, it means —enjoy your eternity of “let”.
I’m just thinking, mind you. What do I know?
Let me just ponder, would you?
Let me.
Let.
I wrote a poem about this. It feels like a Psalm to me. I feel likes some verses which could go between Genesis one and Genesis two—certainly before Genesis 3 (if you know you’re Torah well, like I do).
I spent a few months working on this talk that only a few dozen people heard. But maybe I am wrong, maybe I spent 70 years working on this talk. Maybe it takes this long to learn the mono-syllable word, “let.” Dare we forget that young children live by “let” and we as the parents, teachers and guardians, gradually remove alot of their letting into doing and performing. And then this: didn’t Jesus tell us that we are to become like children? Maybe understanding the power of let is one way to regain the innocence of Genesis 1
What do you think?
(This morning, I made myself a cup of tea and toasted a left-over roll from dinner last night and when outside to my sanctuary porch and my rocking chair. It was a chilly morning but I needed the fresh air to help me become fully awake. As I sat their with my tea, I watched a white squirrel climb up onto the bluebird house. Did this squirrel want to be bluebird? It made me start—well, what is the word? It’s this. The white squirrel on top of that bluebird house made me ponder.
Poetry is pondering. Poetry is giving thought to facts and feelings and then writing them out with the less dominate hand—the less dominate side of our brain—the less dominate way of saying things.
When you subscribe to my Substack you are saying “Steve, be the white squirrel that you really are—be yourself. Become yourself.
And when you subscribe to my Substack, it helps me build confidence and the freedom to say white squirrel kind of things. Why is this necessary? Because dear friends, there are just so many grey squirrels in the world these days.
And yes, I took this picture to prove it.)
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