Let Go of the Bar
Day 5 — Headwind: Genesis 12:1-4
Introduction
There is a moment in a trapeze act that has no net.
The artist releases the bar they are holding — launches into open air — and for a moment they are unsupported. No bar behind them. No bar in front. Just the arc of the flight and the trust that their partner’s timing is right and the next bar will be there.
That moment is not recklessness. The trapeze artist is not impulsive or careless. They are highly trained and disciplined athletes and the release is the most calculated move in the act. They let go because they know their partner. They know the timing. They know the arc. And they have done this enough times to have learned that the bar is always there — but only after the release.
Uncertainty feels like that moment. You are holding something — a plan, a version of the future, a path that made sense — and you are being asked to let go before you can see what comes next. Not by someone reckless. By a God whose character and track record are the only net you have.
Most of us will not release the bar until we can see the next one. That is not cowardice. That is the way most careful, thoughtful people are wired. The question is whether the character of God is enough to make the release possible — even for someone who doesn’t go all in without a reason.
Abraham had a reason. It just wasn’t the kind most people would accept.
Every sailor knows a version of this. In the middle of a tack — committed to the turn, past the point of easy return — the sail goes slack. The wind that was driving you forward spills out. You lose not just speed but momentum, and for a few long seconds the boat sits exposed, at risk of stalling before the new heading catches. You have sacrificed the progress you had for the progress you need. And there is nothing to do but hold the turn and wait for the sail to fill.
Scripture
The Lord had said to Abram, “Go from your country, your people and your father’s household to the land I will show you.
“I will make you into a great nation, and I will bless you; I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curses you I will curse; and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you.”
So Abram went, as the Lord had told him.
— Genesis 12:1-4 (NIV)
Reflection
What’s Happening in the Text
God’s instruction to Abram is striking in what it includes and what it leaves out.
What it includes: a command to leave everything familiar — country, people, father’s household. And a set of promises so large they strain believability — a family that becomes a great nation, a great name in history, and a blessing that extends to all people who have ever lived.
What it leaves out: the destination. Go to the land I will show you. Not: go to this specific place. Not: here is the map and the timeline. Go. I will show you.
Abram is seventy-five years old. He has a life — relationships, history, roots. He is not young and unencumbered. And the instruction he receives is directional without being specific. There is a heading but not a destination. A next step but not a full itinerary.
So Abram went. Three words that contain a lifetime of trust.
What This Means for the Reader
I want to be honest with you about something, because I think it matters for how this day lands.
I am an analytical person. I think things through. I weigh options. I am not by nature someone who bets the farm and goes all in without a reason. Risk is something I calculate, not something I chase.
The hardest part of releasing the bar for me was not the flight. It was standing at the edge of the decision — running the numbers one more time, scanning the horizon for something that wasn’t there, feeling the weight of what would be left behind pressing against the absence of a clear destination. That is where the uncertainty lived. Not in the going. In the not-yet-gone.
But here is what I did not expect: once the release came, something shifted. The fear that had been pressing against the decision did not follow me into the movement. What replaced it — almost immediately — was not certainty about the destination. It was the particular aliveness that comes from being exactly where you are supposed to be, doing exactly what you were told, and filled with anticipation for what is yet to come. It felt less like falling and more like finally moving — progress.
I am still in that movement. I don’t have the full picture yet. But the confidence I had in the character and purposes of God was enough to make the release possible — and what I found on the other side of it was not the clarity I had been waiting for. It was something better. Forward motion.
I don’t know what you’re holding right now. It may not look like a geographic move or a career change like mine was or some visible act of obedience. It may be something quieter — a plan you’ve been gripping, a timeline you’ve been managing, a version of the future you’ve built in your mind and are not ready to open your hands around.
But the wind of uncertainty is pressing against it. And the question underneath the uncertainty is always the same one Abram faced: is the character of this God enough to make the release possible?
Not: can you see the destination? Not: does the plan make sense on paper? Not: what happens if the next bar isn’t there?
Just: do you know the One who is holding it?
Abram went because he had heard from God. He couldn’t see Canaan from Ur. He couldn’t see the nation that would come from a man with no children. He couldn’t see the blessing that would extend to every people who ever lived on earth. He could only see the next step — and the face of the One who had spoken.
Uncertainty doesn’t require fearlessness. It requires enough confidence in the character of God to release what you’re holding.
The bar behind you is real. What you’re letting go of costs something. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. But the One who has the next bar has never missed a catch.
Grace Note
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. — Proverbs 3:5-6 (NIV)
Proverbs 3:5-6 is not a promise of clarity. It is a promise of direction. Submitting to Him in all your ways is the release — and the straight path is what follows the release, not what precedes it. You don’t get the path and then you trust. You trust, and then the path appears.
Prayer Prompt
Father, I’ll be honest — I am not naturally someone who lets go. I think things through. I want to see the plan, understand the steps, and know where I’m going before I commit to the direction. And You know that about me. You made me this way.
So when You ask me to release what I’m holding without showing me what comes next, it costs me something real. It isn’t easy. It isn’t natural. And I won’t pretend that the uncertainty doesn’t press on me in the quiet moments when the next bar is nowhere in sight.
But I know Your character. I know Your track record — in Scripture, in my own life, in the stories of people who released the bar before me and found You faithful on the other side of the flight. And that knowing is what I’m standing on today.
I’m not asking You to show me the destination. I’m asking You to be enough — right now, in the unsupported moment — to make the release possible. Hold the next bar steady. And help me trust Your timing more than my own need to see it first.
Amen.
Response
1. Name What You’re Holding (Written Reflection): What is the bar in your hands right now — the life course you’ve mapped out for yourself, the timeline you’ve been managing, the version of the future you are not ready to release? Write it down specifically. Not “my future” in the abstract — what exactly are you gripping? The career path, the relationship, the ministry plan, the financial picture you’ve been building toward? Naming it precisely is the first move toward opening your hands.
2. Say It Out Loud (Verbal): Read Genesis 12:4 aloud — just four words: “So Abram went.” Then say this: “I don’t have to see the destination. I only have to take the next step.” Say both twice. Abram’s obedience was specific and physical. Let yours be spoken before it is lived.
3. Find the Next Step (Observational): Uncertainty paralyzes when we’re scanning the horizon looking for land that isn’t visible yet. Today, stop scanning and look down at the water directly in front of the bow. What is the one thing you already know you’re supposed to do next — the single step that doesn’t require seeing the destination? Write it down. Do it today if you can. The horizon reveals itself as you sail toward it, not before.
To read all the posts in this devotional series, visit: https://www.thisistheway.live/t/headwind
© Steve Peschke / This Is The Way