Let It : The Surrendered Strength We Don’t Talk About Enough

Two words have had me in a chokehold these last few weeks: Let it.

Let it breathe. Let it stretch you. Let it unfold without your edits. Let it grow past what you had in mind.

Those words have become a gentle mantra for me lately, especially in those quiet, internal wrestling matches between faith and control. And listen, I’m not talking about passivity. I’m talking about surrender.

There’s a growing conversation online right now around the phrase "Let them." Let them feel what they feel. Let them go if they want to go. Let them misunderstand you if they choose not to listen. But sis, this idea isn’t new. It’s ancient wisdom. It's biblical. And it’s relevant.

Matthew 15:14 reminds us when Jesus said, "Let them alone: they be blind leaders of the blind."

Whew. It wasn’t dismissal. It was discernment. A holy release. A divine boundary.

Sometimes the deepest peace comes from trusting God enough to stop managing what He never asked us to carry. And truthfully? It’s not always about "them."

Sometimes, it’s the it that’s got us in a tizzy:

• That outcome you swore would look different by now.

• That season that just won’t seem to shift.

• That version of yourself you keep comparing to who you are today.

And still, God whispers: Let it.

Let it be awkward. Let it be uncertain. Let it be out of your control.

Why? Because on the other side of surrender is a kind of peace that doesn’t come from figuring it all out—it comes from trusting that God already has.

And can we be real? That’s hard for a recovering people-pleaser who’s spent years trying to soften the blow for others, explain the heart behind every boundary, and edit every narrative so no one walks away offended. But in doing so, I confused control with compassion, performance with peace, and obedience with perfection.

It took coming back to the Serenity Prayer—the one that lived framed near the door at my Mimi’s house. The one that welcomed us in and covered us as we left:

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

That prayer hits different now. Because this kind of peace? It isn’t passive. It’s practiced.

And Isaiah 26:3 affirms it: "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee."

So, here’s your moment, friend. Take a deep breath. Check in with your heart. Ask yourself:

• What are you trying to carry that God never asked you to hold?

• Where are you still editing stories He already closed the chapter on?

• What would it feel like to stop managing outcomes and let God be God?

When you’re ready— Let it go. Let them go. And let Him lead.

You’ll find peace on the other side.