Let Go Inspirational Sentences Vol. 4

Behind the Artwork

Close-up of hand written Let Go statements

Let Go statements from the ArtPrize participants:

I’m letting go of all the hate.

I am letting go of my shame.

I’m letting go of expectations.

I’m letting go of regrets about things I’ve said.

I’m letting go of the fear of never being enough.

I’m letting go of my failure in a broken relationship.

I’m forgiving my friends. I’m letting go of the judgments and grudges against them.

Let Go and Healing

Many participants wrote Let Go statements about difficult relationships. Interactive healing art invites honest reflection. And as a result, many ArtPrize visitors are experiencing a new level of freedom as they begin to Let Go of the things that weigh them down or drag them under.

I am letting go of all the hurt my husband has put me through. I know he doesn’t mean it. But it still makes my heart bleed.
Signed, Lindsay

Note: One hundred twenty-six participants pre-submitted Let Go letters and sentences to be collaged into the painting. The names and some details have been changed to protect identities.

A Heart Surrendered

From the Heart

Heart rate at 300 beats per minute

“Mrs. Alderman, your new-born baby’s heart rate is 300 beats per minute.” He explained that a baby’s heart rate should be around 120 beats per minute. But our son’s heart rate raced almost three times faster. I bit my lip and fought tears.

Over the next several days, doctors or nurses surrounded our baby, Grant, in the cardiac unit every time his heart monitor went off. A few days into the crisis, a doctor admitted, “Mrs. Alderman, your baby is very sick.” What he meant was, “Mrs. Alderman, your son could die.” For the next 16 days, a team of doctors worked to find the right medication level to stabilize our son’s heart.

Physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion threatened me. Would our baby live? Would he play sports like the other boys? Why couldn’t I have a healthy baby like other mothers?

Desperate, I knelt on the floor in children’s hospital chapel and pleaded for a miracle.

The process of letting go was one of the most difficult things I had ever done. How does a mother surrender a son? For my own mental health and emotional survival, I needed to give up control—to lay down my hopes and dreams. In the end, I could do nothing to save our son’s life.

But after 16 painful days, my miracle actually came. Grant’s heart stabilized, and the doctors obtained the right medication level. That Christmas I received a precious gift: my son’s life.

Let Go and Peace

Behind the Artwork

Close-up of a section of Let GoThe threads of past exhibits continue to be sewn in and out of my current artwork. During ArtPrize 2011, Metro Health Hospital invited me to portray Kara’s cancer story. So I created Braving the Wind which tells Kara’s remarkable story of determination and hope after her reoccurring battles with cancer.

This letter from “Warrior of Hope” is from another friendship that resulted from ArtPrize 2011. A friendship, like Kara’s, that has been woven into my life. After meeting these brave survivors, I have a tremendous respect for their enduring spirits.

Dear Life,

One day my life came to a screeching halt. I had a massive collision with my status quo. My sense of “comfortable” suddenly became very uncomfortable—even terrifying. My divorce and cancer diagnosis shook me up and left me in complete despair—fragmented, bruised, and scarred. Thoughts of “What’s next?” or “Where do I turn from here?” frequented my mind.

Over time, I began to realize that life is not all about me, so I asked myself: “What can I learn from my circumstances?” One thing I learned is this: “Never give up and to keep on fighting!” There is ALWAYS hope. Real life miracles really do still happen.

I have now survived two cancer diagnoses and defied the odds; I still get to celebrate life. I may be permanently disabled according to the doctors. However, I have a lot of life and hope still left. My journey has reminded me of how precious life really is. And as a result, I’m learning to have a great appreciation for everything.

So I’m letting go of my fear of the unknown. I’m letting go of my fear of cancer. And I’m letting go of my fear of being alone.

Letting go and resting peacefully,
Warrior of Hope

Note: One hundred twenty-six participants pre-submitted Let Go letters and sentences to be collaged into the painting. The names and some details have been changed to protect identities.

Let it Go!

From the Heart

Let it go!

“You hate your father,” he suddenly blurted out. I sat there stunned.

While having lunch with Larry Crab, a well-known counselor and author, I shared some of the deep hurt I had experienced when my father divorced my mother after 24 years of marriage, stripping me of my family.

After crying over those difficult words for the next several hours, I struggled through a sleepless night. Traumatic childhood memories resurfaced and plagued me. I longed to be freed.

Over the next several days, I wrote a letter to my father that I never intended to mail. I tried to list every single hurt, disappointment, and broken promise I could remember. After completing the letter, I crumpled it up and threw it into a blazing fire. As flames consumed it, I inched closer to freedom.

Several years later on one memorable day, my father phoned me. We laughed and chatted. When it came time to say “good-bye,” I struggled for a moment whether or not to say “I love you.”

In my mind, a battle ensued. But I said a quick prayer. Then I added, “Dad, I love you.” He responded, “Yeah, here too.” Four days later while I was cooking dinner, my brother called and simply said, ‘Pamela, Dad died.” I dropped to the floor in anguish. At 33, I had lost my dad.

Years later, I no longer remained the same woman that the author in the restaurant said I was; I had taken great strides towards healing. As I learned to let go of the resentment—whether I ever heard an apology or not—the wounds healed. Love had replaced the former hate.

At my father’s funeral, I shared my last four words to my father: “Dad, I love you.”

Let Go Inspirational Sentences Vol. 3

Behind the Artwork

Close-up of a section of Let Go

Let Go statements from the ArtPrize participants:

I’m letting go of over analyzing.

I will let go of excessive internet usage.

I’m letting go of the shame of getting fired.

I’m letting go of resentment and turning to gratitude.

I’m letting go of my need to control the outcome of my life.

I need to let go of allowing other people to affect what I think.

I’m letting go of judging others because I can only change myself.

Let Go and Releasing Control

Like the next writer, I, too, struggle with perfectionism. Perfectionism’s close cousin may be control. Why not write your own Let Go letter, and like me, give up perfectionism and control?

I am letting go of my need to have a perfect family, or my need to make it “look” like I have a perfect family. I’ll stop trying to fix people or situations, as if it’s really up to me anyway!
Signed, Katherine

Note: One hundred twenty-six participants pre-submitted Let Go letters and sentences to be collaged into the painting. The names and some details have been changed to protect identities.

Let Go of Loss

From the Heart

Close-up of a section of Let Go

This brave young woman agreed to let me print her Let Go letter. A story of rejection and loss. Her honesty and candor gives the reader a glimpse into the struggle of letting go. Often the act of letting go isn’t simply a one-time event.

Sometimes the hurt is so deep and searing that the healing doesn’t come overnight. The process can take years. For some, the steps of letting go—forgiving and leaving the past behind—must be repeated again and again before the sun begins to shine again.

Dear Trevor,

You hurt me more than anyone ever has. It’s the kind of pain that cuts me to the core and makes me wonder if I’ll ever feel okay again. It hurts like hell to find out you were just using me.

When I found out that I had miscarried, it was the darkest day of my life.

I think about my lost baby every single night and my heart aches. Trevor, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive you, but I will try. I will fight every day to get back to the person I was before I fell for you. I will remind myself that I am worthy of love and that I’m not ruined by you. So here’s to forgiveness—letting go and moving on.

And to my baby, I so desperately wish I could hold you. I love you with all my heart.

Love,
Sydney

Note: One hundred twenty-six participants pre-submitted Let Go letters and sentences to be collaged into the painting. The names and some details have been changed to protect identities.