GOODBYE, POOL TABLE
It came with the house. In the initial offer, we actually said we didn’t
want it. The pool table, that is. But neither did the previous owners want
to take it with them. So it became ours. I don’t mean to complain about
the pool table. It’s a quality, three-piece slate table, with a smooth, level
surface. The only problem is that neither my wife nor I have played more
games of pool than years we have been alive. If you play a game of pool
with me, and want me to win, be prepared for the game to take longer
than a session of Monopoly.
So we looked on the bright side. Maybe this would be an opportunity.
We could take on a new hobby or have meaningful conversation with
guests while hovering over a green felt backdrop. Soon after moving in, I
invited a buddy, chalked up a pool cue, and played my first game of pool,
on our very own table. My first and my last, that is.
It wasn’t long after that game that we set a box of baby clothes on the
table. Just for somewhere to put it, for now. And then another box went
on. And another, until we had almost 20 boxes covering the table. For
most of our two years (thus far) in Evansville, our pool table has been
nothing more than an ill-placed storage shelf. I’m sure some of you have
familiar stories of pool or ping pong tables.
So we decided it was time to let it go and move ahead. We spoke with a
few interested friends, but the task of moving the hefty table was
prohibitive. So finally we made a posting for the internet to see if
someone would have the skills and equipment to haul it away. Sure
enough, within a day the right person came along and disassembled the
table in front of my eyes.
As silly as it sounds, it was surprisingly hard for me to let that pool table
go. What if I needed that pool table some day? Perhaps my kids and their
friends would have enjoyed it. What would my basement be like now?
Was I foolish to let go of something that could be valuable? My basement
is forever changed without that table anchoring down the northwest
corner. Though no one pressured me into releasing it, I have some grief
over the absence of the only pool table I’ve ever owned.
But sometimes we have to let go in order to move ahead. I have new
hopes now. We have new opportunities that seem to better fit our
family. We’ve got space to play and grow. All because we let go.
We’ve all got “pool tables” in our lives. What do you need to let go of in
your life? Do you hold a grudge against someone? Maybe you were
spoken to harshly, or unintentionally forgotten. Let it go, for the sake of
moving forward. Perhaps you need to loosen your hold on your teenager,
or your adult child. What habit, or attitude, could you let go of in order to
increase your life?
When we come together as St. John’s Lutheran Church, it’s necessary for
us to let go, to let go of personal preferences for the common good. We
let go of familiar comforts and rituals to make room for new ways of
doing God’s work and being God’s people. Letting go is not forgetting
yesterday; it’s embracing tomorrow.
Letting go of something – whether it’s your grip of control or the way
things have always been – doesn’t mean you don’t care. Neither does it
mean you become passive and helpless. Letting go allows you to move
into the future. Letting go is to fear less and live more. It’s our faith that
gives us the power to let go. In letting go, we trust God with our future.
We trust God to be God, who makes all things new.
Letting go and moving forward,
“This one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to
what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly
call of God in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:13-14)