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A lesson in letting go
Several years ago, I purchased a new custom-made sofa from a reputable furniture company. When the sofa arrived, the back cushion had no batting. I immediately contacted the store. They sent someone out to fill the batting, but the person didn’t have enough. Another person came out, and still it wasn’t fixed properly. This went on several times, until the salesman came to my house. He realized the sofa wasn’t fixed right, but still nothing was done. Finally, after six months of this, they backed away. My brother was in the furniture business, so he stepped in and called the store. Still, nothing was done.
At that point, I asked to return the sofa for a refund. The manager informed me they did not allow returns on custom-made items. Escalating my complaint to the regional manager was met with rudeness, implying it was my fault.
The more I thought about it, the more I mulled over the events in my mind, mentally justifying everything I had said to the regional manager. Finally, I awoke to the realization that I had been completely obsessed by my opinion of what I thought was right. Humbly and wholeheartedly turning to God, I began to pray.
I prayed for a sense of peace, and peace came. But then I started ruminating about the situation. Conversations replayed in my mind. One day, all this ruminating kept me up until 1:00 in the morning. I knew I couldn’t keep going on this way. Reaching out to God in prayer, I asked, “Father, what am I supposed to learn from this incident?” Then, as if in answer to my prayer, a dialogue with myself ensued in my thinking, which taught me an important spiritual lesson.
It began with the question, “You love children, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I admitted, “I truly do love children.”
“Well,” the internal dialogue continued, “if you were walking down the street and a little boy came running out, calling you names and saying you did some awful things, lying, screaming at the top of his lungs, alerting the whole neighborhood—would that bother you?”
I thought, “No, it wouldn’t, because I’d know whatever he said wasn’t true.”
“Would you argue with him, trying to prove you were right, yelling back at him that you didn’t do those things?”
“No,” I thought. “That’s silly; he’s just a little child.”
“Then what would you do?”
I laughed. “I’d just walk on by and know that his father or mother would inevitably come out to take care of the situation.”
The next thought came clearly and spoke to me deep within: “Yes, that’s right. The father or mother would take care of the child and correct him. Why don’t you let your heavenly Father-Mother, God, take care of His child now, and forget about the situation?”
Humbled, I immediately felt at peace, went to bed, and the whole situation never bothered me again.
What happened with the sofa? The company made a new one for us. Ironically, it also was missing batting. But this time it was fixed quickly. The individual who came out with more batting did a beautiful job. I couldn’t tell anything was ever wrong.
Letting go of problems with others, as the result of consecrated prayer, and trusting God, the Father and Mother of us all, to take care of His children, has helped me immeasurably. It has enabled me to uplift my thought, allowing God to care for, correct, and comfort each one of us as His precious children.
—Teri La Quey, San Tan Valley, Arizona