Surrender

Surrender. In a time of unrest, it is the last thing either participant wants to do…cease to resist an enemy and submit to their authority. Wave the white flag. Give up. Lay down the right to be right. I have been hearing the word surrender in the quiet places lately. It has caused me to pause and take in the word itself.

When we break the word down, sur- means extra. Rend means to tear something to pieces; to experience great emotional pain. And -er means the action or process of. So, surrender means the act or process of tearing something to pieces; the experience of extra emotional pain.

To surrender is not an easy-just-walk-away process. It is gut wrenching. It is humility (chosen), or humiliation (not chosen). It requires death to pride. Admitting I don’t know everything. Recognizing my inability to even know my own heart.

In this time and season, I am hearing the word surrender. Wait. Sit. Give up your way with words. Lay down your thoughts and opinions. Quit looking for a way out. The turmoil of the world brings frustration. Anger. It stirs up turbulence of the human heart. It exposes the deep places of darkness. Places where pride hides among the self-righteous shadows. As humans, the ugliness of sin oozes out of our pores. Our tongues, the rudder of our ship, speak malice. Contempt is our daily bread. We eat it and swallow it whole. It feeds cruelty into our spirits and viciousness is the fruit of our souls. However, most of the time, we cannot see it. After all deception is called deception for a reason.

Surrender sits and waits for an opportunity to show us our place. Waiting while we rage against brick walls and windmills. Allowing us to paint ourselves in the light of our greater virtue, superior morality, and lofty blamelessness. Surrender doesn’t force its way. It allows us to make fools of ourselves until, one day, we fall on our faces and see the truth of who we are. What we are. What we have become. I have personal experience with surrender.

The reality of my arrogance has slapped me in the face on more than one occasion in my life. The way I have hurt those around me in these seasons still cuts me to the quick. The tone of my voice rings in my ears until I am sick with the sound. How could I have been so blind? How could I have missed humility so completely? My heart was ripped open and still is in some instances when I look back.

Then came the rescue. When Surrender stood up. Came towards me. Embraced my tearful reality: that I have been part of the problem all along; that I was never the answer; that I never even knew the answer. I am nothing. In total need of liberation…from myself.

In the action of rending our hearts to pieces, we experience great emotional turmoil. To see yourself as you are is eye opening. I always wrestle against the seeing. I want to believe I am good, righteous even; that I have some semblance of virtue. Until I see the truth, my heart cannot be trusted. I cannot even know my own heart unless God reveals it. Try this scary prayer…“Lord, show me my heart.” That’s all. Then wait and see. Every time I pray this prayer, I am flabbergasted at what he shows me. His gentle way humbles me even further.

It is in this place of surrender that he does his greatest work. The humbling brings us low and that is when he pours out his strength. In these nights of the soul we finally understand his righteousness and how it looks nothing like ours. Surrender is disorienting to our Arrogance which cries out and defends itself… “You’ve done nothing wrong!” It lists all the ways you have been aboveboard. How your attempts to follow and believe deserve to be acknowledged. Pride cries out to be recognized. It is the opposite of Surrender.

Christ surrendered to his enemies without a word. Silence instead of self-defense. They accused and he stood. They beat him and he endured. He had the authority to stop it all, at any point, and he surrendered instead. Why, you ask? Because he knew that the love he had for us was worth the pain. He was thinking of us. All of us. And so, he surrendered to the powers that be. His heart was rent to pieces with his love for us. He experienced great emotional distress, sweat drops of blood, all in surrender. He gave up his comfort. He gave up his knowledge. He gave up his power. He gave up his very life.

Over the course of my life, I have learned about surrendering the hard way. When I think back to those times, the deep humility still breaks my heart. It was the emptying of my own will and my own desires. It came with the knowledge that I had failed in every way. Yet, in these times of surrender and giving up my ways, I didn’t find retribution from an angry God. I found his joy at my acknowledgement of him. Of his grace. Of his strength. The Holy Spirit was present and ministering to my tired soul as I gave up my striving to be right. My attempts at being holy. As I recognized I can do NO THING to right myself, God himself smiled and held me.

It is a wonder I can forget these tender moments of surrender, but I do. I go right back to declaring my rights. My own Bill of rights so to speak.

• My right to be right. (That is laughable.)

• My right to cherry pick scripture to fit my narrative.

• My right to shout my opinions to others without thought.

• My right to dig my heels in.

• My right to change my values with the wind, when it is convenient for me.

My Bill of Rights shows what I value; my own view of the world. It is a long list, and I am not always aware of it, until one of my perceived rights is challenged. Then I defend, scramble to prove my list, and not back down, because that would be “compromise.” Right? I’m not so sure anymore. Compromise or defense of myself? There is fine line and Surrender will be happy to show me where it lies. If I only ask. Therein lies the challenge. Am I brave enough to face the truth of my own heart? Can I lay down what I think I believe and allow God to show me what I actually believe?