Time and Trust and Letting Go
If Darth Vader somehow got into your podcast, would you still publish it? If you tuned into a podcast episode and heard some noisy breathing, would you continue listening?
Why am I asking these strange questions? Well, the latest episode of my podcast isn’t perfect. And that’s because I’m experimenting with yet another recording setup. Oh my, I’ve had a lot of technical problems recently. Podcasting has become very difficult. For episode 163, I used Adobe Audition to capture and edit the audio. I learnt the basics of this complicated program as I was recording. No doubt, I’ll learn more about Audition, and then future episodes of my Stories of an Unschooling Family podcast will sound better! Despite its imperfections, I published this episode because I couldn’t face throwing another file in the trash bin. Even though there are a few extra noises, my voice is clear and easy to hear.
In episode 163, I’m talking about:
how time moves so fast.
making the most of our time with our kids.
not being anxious but trusting our kids will get to where they are meant to go.
how we have to let go of each stage of our lives so that we can receive the delights of the next one.
our son Thomas and grief and birthday traditions.
I’m sharing two stories:
Time and Trust (from my book Radical Unschool Love)
Letting Go of Another of Thomas’ Places
Show Notes
My Unschooling Books
Curious Unschoolers: paperback
Radical Unschool Love: paperback
Blog posts
How Did a Man Get into My Podcast?
Letting Go of Another of Thomas’ Places
Podcast
Something Extra
Here’s another letting go story. It started life as a blog post. Now you can find it in my book Radical Unschool Love.
Letting Go of Control
On Saturday evening, Jessie, Quinn’s sister, died. A two-metre-long brown snake bit my son Callum’s Shar Pei/Great Dane puppy.
Her death wasn’t in The Plan. She should have lived for years. Instead, the Jessie stories have suddenly come to an end. They’ll be no more comparisons: “Is Jessie much bigger than Quinn? Send us a photo!” No more I’ll protect you! barks from a warrior puppy. No more soggy doggy kisses.
We make plans. We think we know what’s ahead. And then something happens. In an instant, life flies out of our control. Without turning the page, or even moving to a new paragraph, the story changes.
Callum digs a big puppy-sized grave under the tree in his backyard.
We lower our one-day-old son into the cemetery ground.
A routine ultrasound. “I’m sorry there’s a problem with your baby.” As these few words hit our ears, our story changes. Just like that. No warning.
Our son Thomas died. There was nothing we could do about it. Sunk in my pit of grief, I cried, “My plan for my life was better than this one!” But I know, deep down, it wasn’t.
I survived the death of a child. I could never have done that on my own. Oh, at first, I tried to. But a day arrived when I knew that only God could help me. And so I let go of control. I had no choice. I threw myself into His arms. And I trusted that I’d emerge on the other side of grief.
Joy and sorrow. How can the world contain both? When does one turn into the other? Which one is ahead? I just don’t know. And does it even matter? We’re not in control. God is.
These days we don’t look too far ahead. Instead, we try to live life as we should. Right now.
Live. Give. Forgive. Love until it hurts. Trust.
In other words: unschool.
It’ll all work out. It always does. Because we’re God’s.
Photos
These are some of Thomas’ birthday photos from last year.
So will you listen to my podcast? Will you ignore my noisy breathing? I hope you do!