Let Her Go

I’ve always liked the song by Passenger, called “Let Her Go”.   The guy who wrote and sings it is named Michael Rosenberg, and he is ‘Passenger’.   He has this unique raspy voice, and people love it (I like it).  If I could sing and play the guitar, I would do this song on “open mic night” at Legacy Hall.  When I listened to it recently on youtube I saw that it had 2.3 billion views – that’s Billion with a “B”.  Holly Cow.  Even if some teenage girl in England plays it non-stop for 1 billion times, that leaves 1.3 billion other people playing it.    

He’s not a Christian (very sure) – and I prefer Christian contemporary.  It’s still a great and simple song with a simple message:  we don’t know what we have until it’s gone.  We all have regrets.


   

Key lines from the song are these:

 

Well you only need the light when it's burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go

Only know you've been high when you're feeling low
Only hate the road when you're missin' home
Only know you love her when you let her go
And you let her go

 

So, don’t wait till it’s gone – he’s gone, or she’s gone.  Appreciate and be thankful for what you have now.  Seize the moment.  Don’t “let her go”.    Maybe the correlation is wrong here – the song is a love story really, of lost love.  But I think of it in this broader sense.

  

Maybe it’s a dream you once had, of doing something you love – but you let it go. 

 

Along the way there have been diversions, many of them (pic from London streets).

  

Have you ever heard someone say they have ‘No Regrets’?  Occasionally I’ll ask someone, an older man, if he has any regrets, would he do anything differently in his life if he had to do it all over again?  I really want to know – I’m looking for advice – I’m looking for guidance for the few years I have left.  But, more often than not - he says “no – I’d do it all the same again – no regrets”.

  

I don’t believe it. We all have regrets.  But it’s not cool to admit it.  It’s nothing to be ashamed of.  So, I’m thinking of my list, in the event that my kids or grandkids ever come to me and ask the question.  We all want to live a life that we won’t regret, but we will, without question, come to the point where we wish we had done something – but ran out of time.

 

I want to answer the question when asked – thoughtfully – respectfully:  “yes, I do have a few regrets, and if I were you, consider doing this . . . . . .”

 

Here’s one example: I never met my grandfather.  He didn’t die until I was in my 20’s or early 30’s.  He lived in Tulsa, just 250 miles from Dallas.  My parents were silent about him, as if he didn’t exist.  He had abandoned my fathers’ family when my dad was very young – so the story goes. . . . and goes . . . and goes (who really knows what happened?). 

 

And as Passenger says – “you let her go”.  I let him go.  Gutless and clueless, I never gave it a thought to track him down – hunt him down – stop in for a visit.  I have a feeling that he was someone who made a few bad decisions in life – screwed up along the way – took the wrong path.  And no one looked for him.  No one hunted him down.  No one gave him a second chance.   

 

That could have been me.  One wrong move, one bad choice.

 

I regret that I let him go.  I never had him, but still, I let him go.   Now my prayer is that somewhere along the way he found Jesus, and I’ll meet him at the gate, and apologize.

 

And the forgiveness party will begin!  I know he likes cigars, and I’ll bring my Cubans.  And we'll talk.

 

For Jan,

love Jack