Letting Go, Letting God - and Choosing Peace

There comes a moment in every long journey when the soul itself asks a question the mind can no longer answer:

What if the truest progress is not doing more… but surrendering more?

I have reached that moment.

Over the years, I have poured my heart, faith, intellect, and lived experience into many initiatives—each born from a desire to heal, to warn, to awaken, to build something meaningful that could help others find their footing in a confusing world. None of this was wasted. Every seed was planted with intention. Every effort mattered.

But now, I am choosing something deeper.

I am choosing to Let Go and Let God.

Not as a retreat.

Not as resignation.

But as an act of faith so complete that it feels almost countercultural in a world addicted to striving.

I have come to understand that the greatest calling on my life right now is not expansion—it is simplification. Not amplification—but alignment.

My quest is no longer to manage or maintain everything I have created. My quest is to become the man God is calling me to be today:

A great husband.

A grounded, present, loving person.

Someone who does everything in his power to make our shared life not merely functional—but super.

This is not small work.

This is holy work.

Scripture speaks of a gift that cannot be manufactured or forced—the “peace which passes all understanding.” That peace has become my true north. Not peace as avoidance. Not peace as passivity. But peace as deep, settled trust. Peace as spiritual gravity. Peace as a way of being that reshapes every decision.

And it is toward that peace that I am now orienting my life.

When I look back at why I began writing—why I have shared my story so openly, so vulnerably—it has never been for attention or applause. It has always been about pointing toward something higher. My hope has been to help others glimpse what I can only describe as Heaven on Earth—not someday, not elsewhere, but right here, right now, in the ordinary holiness of daily life.

Heaven on Earth is not perfection.

It is presence.

It is love made practical.

It is faith lived out in the quiet hours.

This is what I am endeavouring to live 24/7/365.

Not episodically.

Not performatively.

But faithfully.

Letting Go and Letting God does not mean abandoning responsibility—it means trusting that God is far more invested in the outcome than I ever could be. It means releasing the illusion that everything depends on me, and embracing the truth that everything depends on grace.

So I simplify.

I breathe.

I choose love over legacy, presence over pressure, peace over proving.

And in doing so, I trust that whatever truly matters will endure—because it is held not by my hands, but by His.

If these words help even one person pause, breathe, and consider the possibility that Heaven might be closer than they think—then this journey continues to serve its purpose.

Grace is enough.

Peace is possible.

And God is faithful.

Always.

All my love,

RossG3.ca