I was among 100 women, ages 18 - 80, trying to adjust to this new reality and it stretched us uncomfortably. Some got angry, some threatened to head for a hotel in Edmonton, others asked for alternative arrangements with ensuites, but in the end, all stayed.

Our intent for gathering was to talk about giving God a bigger place in our lives.

Included in the schedule were a number of silly things which lowered inhibitions and forced us into new activities. Big rubber tires were inflated and women of all ages tried sliding down an otter like ice path. Horses were saddled and we trotted along a crunchy snow trail beside Broken Timber Creek. We listened as coyotes howled in the night, and we listened also to what surely was the stirring of God in our hearts.

Late into Saturday darkness we sat around a campfire and voluntarily took turns throwing sticks into the flames. Each piece of wood tossed was a symbolic gesture to say I'm giving something up that's been holding me back from walking with my Creator. Many women verbalized what it was they were letting go. Others approached the fire with silence but seemed equally as resolute to let go and let God.

As I winged my way back into southern Ontario, I wondered about what had happened in the past three days. The time frame had been enough to move mountains of attitudes. The new environment effectively sharpened my senses, and pushed me to adjust to unfamiliar realities.

But now I was coming back to the familiar, back to the routine, even back (thank goodness) to a comfortable bathroom.

In the days that followed, I've done the routine, but I'm thinking about the realities of letting go. Often it seems what we're holding on to falls into three categories; fear, security and disappointment with God.

Any time we've been hurt or made to look foolish, a sticky, uninvited presence named fear seems to cling around our thoughts and decisions. Remember that idyllic sounding horseback ride along Broken Timber Creek ? Truthfully, facing the horse meant I had to face a 15 year old memory of a terror filled ride with a runaway horse beneath me. That's fear. It holds me back and puts the brakes on risking into the unknown again. It's what stops us from confronting what we intrinsically know is wrong.

Security, like the bathroom, is nice, comfortable, and necessary. But true security has a changing face, it doesn't always look the same. I remember when we made our move from the prairies to Ontario. Everything changed, and is still changing. I've had to let go of friends, schedules and an environment I cherished and say yes to new ways of approaching those same necessities in my life. It's different, it's changing, but there is still security in it.

Disappointment with God is perhaps the toughest thing to let go of. How do you say yes to a God whom you thought could have kept your loved one alive, or your home from foreclosure, or your marriage from divorce ? Where was He when a crisis crashed and you're left with the pieces ? It's with very shaky hands, sometimes angry hands, that we lift even that to the all knowing Creator of our universe.

Why focus on letting go ?

Because the best life lived is one of responding to, not hanging on. Over my world, over yours, there is a God looking down asking, "Do you know I love you ?"

It takes open hands to reach up and say "thanks God, I need that."

It takes open hands to reach into the future.