We've been struggling for months now, trying to find an alternate solution for our son for middle school for the fall. Our local public school is designated as "a failing school." We sent our daughter there anyway several years ago, because all her friends were going and everyone whose older siblings had gone through it assured us it was okay.

It's not okay. It's not okay for your child to be afraid to go to the bathroom by themselves. It's not okay for teachers to throw desks across the room. It's not okay for the victim of bullying to be told it's probably best for them to stay home for a week or two until the bully cools off since the school can't promise to keep the victim safe. It's not okay that No Child Left Behind and the wars overseas have stolen every last penny of funding from our schools. (Sorry, rant over.)

So we've been hunting for a solution. Private schools are competitive to get into (not to mention expensive). But I vowed the day my daughter graduated from our public middle school that we would not send our son there. It's been a long road finding the right solution. But we found out yesterday that he was accepted to a fabulous, progressive, independent middle school, and I couldn't be more thrilled. 

About a month ago, we found out that he wasn't accepted to the only two schools to which we'd applied. We panicked. We searched for options. We couldn't find any. That's when Persistence kicked in. I called a school that I had liked but hadn't applied to because of the distance from our home and asked, even though we'd already missed the application deadline, if they were fully enrolled. There was one family, they said, who hadn't accepted their spot. If they declined, there would be one spot open. It would be for a boy. There was already another family asking about it. I jumped into high gear, doing everything we could to complete the application process in record time.

And then I had to let go. We did everything we could. That's when you let go. When there's still more you can do -- for example with writing, it might be learning craft or revising or getting feedback -- do it. And then, when there's no more you can do -- when the manuscript is out on submission or the application is in -- let go. Step away! Because refreshing your email and checking your phone serves no purpose other than to bring you a little closer to insanity. 

But more than that, it changes something. I'm not saying the grasping prevents the good stuff from happening. But I know that when I truly let go, release my hold on what I think I need to have happen, things change for the better. 

I believed I knew which school was best for my son. They didn't take him. Maybe you believe you know which publishing house or which editor is best for your book. It doesn't always turn out the way you think it should. Sometimes to get to the right outcome, it takes a little longer than expected or hoped for, but in the end, it's getting to the right outcome that matters. Maybe it won't be your first manuscript that gets published. Maybe it won't be your first draft. But when you do all you can and then step away, trust me, magic happens.