Surrender to Peace

The statement was made matter-of-factly. As if everyone knew exactly what it meant and what it felt like. I glanced around at heads nodding. There were some in the know. One woman shook her head almost woefully. A small nudge of anxiety poked at my conscience. As the speaker continued, I tried to determine whether I had experienced this but had missed its significance or misunderstood it.

It was 1996, and I was sitting in a women’s AA conference, listening to a beautiful woman sharing her experience, strength, and hope, and in that God-breathed story, she had come to the “end” of herself. Once she had arrived there, she had explained, her life had changed.

Just recently, I heard that expression again, triggering memories of my first conference and the introduction to surrendering one’s life and will over to God, with all our flaws, character defects, and outrage. Where did all that time go?

I was a tough cookie when my life came crashing down. I was pretty sure that self-will and control were the answer to all my problems. Armed with those tools, I was confident I could fix anything. If I worked more jobs, completed more goals, and ran circles around my family like a zealous sheepdog, all would be okay. Until it wasn’t. Until I ran out of courage, confidence, energy, stubborn determination, and ego. Surveying the path of destruction and rubble before me, I finally let go. Here I am, Lord. And my life changed.

I remember coming to the end of myself- empty, open, humble, and surrendered. Surrender always seemed to imply loss. Failure. Weakness. Trying it on was awkward at first. I visualized myself laying down my sword of self-reliance and looking up.

I entered a season of exchanging self-sufficiency for God-sufficiency.

Embracing spiritual principles in place of “self-will run riot” meant taking direction, listening, and realizing the right answers weren’t a byproduct of my thinking, but of my prayers. The biggest stumbling blocks: I had no trust in a power greater than myself, nor did I believe I was beloved. My thinking was skewed.

Actively trusting came slowly. Giant leaps of faith were followed by resolution and redemption. I sought assurance through the efforts of others who had this faith thing figured out. I desperately wanted what they had- peace. I spent mornings in God’s word searching for answers. I set my sight on promises both spiritually and those found in recovery.

Psalm 37:4-6 (NIV) Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him and he will do this: He will make your righteous reward shine like the dawn, your vindication like the noonday sun.

Here I am at the end of myself once again. I am accepting, with worn grace, the fact that life happens while I’m planning other things; God’s plan is not the one I would have chosen, and His Will be done, not mine.

To surrender one’s life to God does not mean a journey void of pain or grief.  I am not promised a life without trial or tribulation. Surrendering means that, regardless of the outcome of this season, God alone has the power to help me embrace my current situation as it is, while confidently knowing that he will provide everything I need: the capacity to cope day to day, hope through the ever present power of the Holy Spirit, and a deep peace that only comes from the freedom of surrendering and letting go.

Isaiah 41:10 – “Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”