Letting Go and Letting Josh

    At the beginning of the grass cutting season my wife began what she knew would be a difficult discussion.  She opened up the door to our sons taking over the responsibilities of cutting the grass.  Now that may not sound like a big thing to you, but for me it was a big deal.  I’m not one to dig in the dirt and plant plants and I put off trimming hedges and trees as long as possible, but when it comes to cutting the grass, it is one of my favorite things to do.
    Once Spring comes I look forward to Mondays, because not only is it my day off when I can get a good long run in, but they are also the days when I fire up the lawnmower and spend an hour and

a half listening to sermons and music, processing the stressors of the week, and allowing myself to get lost in the mindless activity of cutting away the overgrowth.  It is time for me, and it is therapeutic, especially in those times when things at work are overwhelming.  I do my best thinking, planning, sorting, ranting, and raving guiding the simple yet effective machine over every inch of the lawn.
    Now I am not one of those guys who keeps a perfect and beautiful lawn, that would mean investing in chemicals and dealing with the science of lawn care, but I am one that likes to see what is growing, weeds or grass, well manicured in straight lines.  There is a beauty in seeing striped lawn, for when I see one, I know that that person takes some pride in their home. Bottom line, I love cutting the lawn and have at times been portrayed as “possessive” of the task.
    Knowing this it should come as no surprise that when my wife first broached the subject I felt a touch of anxiety and aversion.  After all, could the boys carry out the task to my satisfaction?  What would take the place of this cathartic activity that has saved my soul many a week in the past?  How could I give it up?
    My wife knew this would be my response, so she actually threw it out there as a suggestion last year.  I wasn’t ready, and like a master chess player she realized the cost and simply let it lie.  However, as the year progressed the idea percolated in my mind, so that when she mentioned it at the beginning of this season, I was at least open to the possibility.  And so, I instructed my 14 and 12 year old sons on the ways of the world...well, the ways of the grass anyway.
    We pulled out the weed eater and the mower, and with each I explained how they worked, after all, though I hated physics, knowing physics helps to explain how and why things work.   I turned toward maintenance of the tools, explaining that there are two gas cans, and neither the twain shall be mixed!  The one with the black top is a special mix of oil and gas, specifically set forth for the weed eater, and the one with the yellow top is for the mower because the mower feeds itself oil.  Having referenced oil, I then turned to the mower and showed them where the dipstick was and how VITAL it was for them to check the oil EVERY TIME.  Finally, I shared the need for closed toe shoes and the dangers of the spinning blades.
    Having explained the mechanics, I then turned toward the actual starting and turning off of the engines, each uniquely described for the specific machines.  I started each of them, then gave them a shot.  Though they didn’t get it the first day, they have since gotten the hang of it, but it took a few Mondays of my help to get going.
    Then, however, we turned toward the most important part of the job, which is the actual cutting of the lawn.  Now, I’d have thought that it’s a pretty straight forward concept that one would simply start a line then come back, watching the path that one just cut and creating another line back down the row, but somehow either the eyes of adolescent males or their disinterest had an affect that resulted in patchy tufts and curved lines across the lawn.  Very frustrating.
    When I began this process I was a part of a men’s book study, and as we were gathering I began to share the woes of releasing this task to my sons.  The fathers of younger children looked a bit quizzical and didn’t really get it, but those whose boys were of age all just smiled and shook their heads.  It was as if this is some kind of universal rite of passage, not for the boys learning to cut the lawn, but for the fathers who have to endure their learning!  It was good to be around those who had suffered in the same ways, and all they could say was, “You have to let it go.  They will learn.”  Though skeptical, I trusted them and did my best to follow their sage advice.
    At this point I’m guessing that they’ve cut the lawn almost a dozen times, and though the start was rocky, I must say that they are now pretty good at the task.  They have worked it out so that my oldest, Caleb, does all the trim work and the younger, Joshua, does the cutting, both of which were challenged at first.  My oldest either figured that if he cut it short enough he could wait longer before repeating the task, or he wanted to create gullies along the edge of the lawn, not with a shovel but with the weed eater.  I worked with my youngest, and after every cut I would show him where he’d missed spots or how he might more effectively and efficiently cut the next time. (Note, I did not make him get the mower out again but let the patched grow until the next cut.  Aren’t you proud?)
    Today, however, I have to say that I’m a proud father, because they’ve learned, and they do a good job.  I come home after their task has been completed, and I walk in praising them for their efforts and prideful of their presentation.  And though I haven’t found quite the same cathartic activity, I’m able to devote time to other things that need to be done around the house.

    In the tenth chapter of Luke’s Gospel Jesus sends out 72 of his followers into the world to reveal the Kingdom.  He tells them to go from house to house, and if the home owners accept them, then live among them and share his teachings.  If they don’t then knock the dust off their sandals and move on.  In doing this, he empowers them to take what he knew and learn to share it in their own way and by their own witness.  When they returned they proclaimed, “We saw demons fall from the sky and were blessed to see the Kingdom of God revealed on the trip.”
    When Jesus sent out his 72 children, He empowered them with the authority to do what He needed them to do...to do what was needed.  He laid the groundwork for their work in his own witness, but then he gave it over.  He let go of the reigns and said, “You can do this now, so I can move on to other things.”  They did, and He did.

    There’s a life lesson in this story for me as a pastor, because I think all too often pastors and church staff and leadership take control of things, rationalizing by saying, “It’s just easier if I do it myself.”  And yet, when we do this, we don’t do anybody any favors, including ourselves.  We don’t give others the opportunity to experience the joy and pride of completing a Kingdom job well done, and we stifle ministry because we create a bottle neck of action that must pass through us.
    In reflecting upon the yard work of my sons, I learned a life lesson as well, for there are many times that I, as a parent, have done for them rather than empowered them.  I had to “let go and let Josh,” and I was taught that I have taken care of things, rather than encourage and empower them to take care of things themselves, and in the end, if I continue to do this, I do them a disservice.  And yet, God can find a way to teach me lessons, even in the most unlikely of ways...taking away something I love, so that others might experience the joy that that something can give.

What does God need you to give up so someone else can grow?  How might you empower another to receive joy and self-worth through the doing of God’s work through them?