There is a concept in Ignatian Spirituality that I like to think of as “holy detachment.” The essence of this practice is to release our emotional attachment to the things that entangle our attention so we can fill our hearts, minds, and gazes with the peace and freedom of Christ.

However, it takes trust to journey down this path and hold onto Christ’s hope of what lies ahead more strongly than our fear of future failure or worries of the present day. This is something I (and I’m sure many of you reading this) struggle with daily.

Yet I’ve found that when I’m able to detach my grip on my worldly cares—my family, my job, my possessions, my ambitions—my hands are open to grasp God, to embrace the Holy Spirit’s movements around me, and to clasp in communion with others as we build holy communities in and with Christ.

This is what I hear Jesus telling the Twelve in today’s gospel as he prepares them to journey, preach, and heal as his disciples. He’s not telling them to sever ties with their families, but he is warning them that the path they are following with him may not win the support of their loved ones (though it may also send just the right people to encourage them on their way). He’s not demanding they forget their pasts but inviting them to detach from their plans for themselves and put God’s call above all else, even if and when it requires shouldering a hefty cross. Jesus says to trust in the journey with him because the rewards of the life that comes with this are worth it.

To what or to whom am I holding that prevents me from embracing and trusting in Christ’s call toward peace and freedom? With hands and heart open, what can I offer to those Christ sends across my path?