what it means to let go

[God gives you] more than enough power to manage your own life, but not nearly enough power for you to manage everybody else’s.
— Dr. Joel C. Hunter

I heard an entire sermon on CODEPENDENCY this morning. I kid you not. Without actually using the term, one of my pastors spent 30+ minutes normalizing the pull to judge and manage others' lives, illustrating the destructive consequences of giving into that temptation, and then reorienting the congregation around the hope we have in letting go and, essentially, letting God handle that which (and who) we can't (which, let's face it, is most everything!) ... It was a great message.

Illustrating the point about letting go, Dr. Hunter read through a piece by an unknown author. It sounded familiar, so I spent a few minutes diving into my addictions and recovery library ... and there it was: featured in Stepping Stones to Recovery from Codependency, a helpful little guide to Letting Go.

Of course, I made it into a handout. Enjoy!

Incredible change happens in your life when you decide to take control of what you do have power over instead of craving control over what you don’t
— Steve Maraboli


Could you use a little help learning to let go? Tracy Weiss specializes in treating individuals struggling with codependency, perfectionism and self-doubt. Don't hesitate, MAKE AN APPOINTMENT.

Redefining Failure for Success

The path to success involves a lot of how you deal with failure.

Do you believe failure to be a (by)product or do you view failure as an indictment on identity? A simple litmus test:

When something you've been working on/betting on doesn't work out as you planned/hoped, what is your internal monologue?

1) Well, that failed.

2) Well, I failed.

Think about it. The former perspective assumes grace and possibility and leads to a motivation to try again. The latter perspective blinds us to possibility and keeps us from confidence and hope.

Where do you land?

On Personality


That's me. Tested, branded and herded into the corral of Guardians. In my best form, an Inspector. In my worst? A Duty-fulfiller.

The letters and labels? They're all products of research and assessments developed over the years by Isabel Myers, Kathryn Briggs and David Keirsey on the subject of personality.


If you're anything like me, your skin crawls at the idea of being labeled or boxed into a bulleted list of traits and inclinations. In the same breath, you're a little fascinated by self-discovery (or self-awareness), so the idea of a personality assessment kind of piques your interest ...

If that's the case, I'm going to point you to Keirsey's Temperament Sorter II first (next comes The Enneagram, but we'll save that for later). Take the test (there's no right or wrong answer ... and it's FREE) and check out your results.

But don't stop there. Personality is about instinctual inclination — what you DO. It's not about your heart. It's not about character. It doesn't take into account any learned behavior or a moral compass. Who you are, how that manifests and why it matters has a solid stake in personality, but you are a complex combination of a lot of other factors as well. Birth order. Life experiences. Spiritual gifts. Brain chemistry ... just to name a few ...

It's all worth exploring ... and if you're up for it, I'd love to help you navigate!


If you've taken a personality test, what are your letters? Was it accurate?

today's grace

It's become part of my morning routine, this staring out the sliding glass doors at the day. I watch the clouds move in the sky and the squirrels munch on berries. One hand holding my coffee, the other splays on the glass, curious about and sensing the day's temperature.

This morning, I was looking out the doors at my plants. The ones I planted a couple of months ago. They're dying. And our podocarpus hedge? Not growing. In a split second, I went from basking in a new day's hopes and new mercies to beating myself up, feeling like a failure. Guilt descended on me. The negative self-talk began: You're a failure as a gardener. You suck at time management. Sure, it's a dry season, but you could have watered more. Fertilized more. And this backyard project? It's ridiculous that you haven't finished it yet. Some homemaker you are. You haven't even done a real grocery shopping in weeks … let alone prepared a real meal … And it went on, just a few seconds of "you are crap" stream of consciousness and I was now beginning my day defeated.

But you know what? There's grace in our failures. We're allowed to fail. Everyone does. Maybe you need to hear that today ... YOU ARE ALLOWED TO FAIL. 'Cause here's the thing: We can't do it all. We weren't meant to. The world tells us to be pieces and parts of who we're not. It tells us to bring our A-game no matter the exam content, when, in reality, a civil engineer is just not going to nail an essay on symbolism in Hawthorne's "Ethan Brand."

I love green stuff. Flowers. Plants. Wide open fields. Heavy wooded spaces. I love it. And I find a lot of peace and joy in planting things and watching them grow … but right now, busy with full-time work and full-time school and a part-time internship, I can't be a good gardener. I can't expect to be. I have to be okay with this "failure" … because that's not what it is. That's not who I am.

It's not who YOU are.