Surrender is a verb. Noah Webster’s first definition of it is “to yield to the power of another; to give or deliver up possession upon compulsion or demand.” Maybe that’s why it so often feels more like being shackled to an adjective. SURRENDER, adj. 1. A state of powerlessness. And maybe that’s why it’s so hard to do. But what if “I surrender all” was a transfer of power that, instead of destroying yours, actually gave you more?
Apart from Jesus, Abraham is probably the most iconic figure of surrender in the Bible. In fact, what he was willing to do with his son exactly paralleled what God did do with his. Commanded to sacrifice his not just long-awaited but long-promised Isaac as a burnt offering, Abraham laid him on the altar and went as far as raising the knife before the angel intervened and essentially informed him he’d passed the test.
While Abraham’s commitment to God should be duly noted, so should the fact that our stories don’t all go like Abraham’s, which I think we might too often believe they’re supposed to.
What God asks you to put on the altar won’t always be spared by an angel at the last second.
But what God asks you to put on the altar isn’t always Isaac, either.
How does your story go? Figure that out and surrender might feel less like a ball and chain. In fact, it might be the key that unlocks the real ball and chain.
It has been for me.
The Power Struggle of Surrendering All
If I’m Abraham and the husband and children I still haven’t met are Isaac, then figuratively my altar scene looks something like this. In one hand, the knife is poised over them. My heart wants to submit. If God says I can’t have them, I want to be able to let them go. And believe he’ll fill the hole they leave behind.
Meanwhile, the other arm has completely encircled them like a mother bear’s paw as I watch God over the altar through very narrow, very wary eyes. “I’ll let them go if you tell me to. But just you try and tell me to.”
I’ve been in a power struggle for years trying to decide whether I should use that knife to sacrifice my hopes and dreams or defend them. And the incessant tug-o-war has been at the mercy of one thing. I wish I had a dollar for every time I’ve said it. “Heavenly Father, I don’t trust you.”
I’ve had no confidence he won’t break my heart if I loosen my grip and let him have his way. If I yield to his power and “deliver up possession”, where does that leave me? Those hopes and dreams have been my refuge.
Of course, God should be my refuge, but asking him for comfort after he takes everything seems rather like asking the bully who stole your lunch to help you find some lunch.
See my dilemma?
What Exactly Does God Want Surrendered?
Before you can surrender all, you have to know you’re giving it to a God who loves you. It’s hard to believe he does when he asks so much.
But there lies my real problem.
What exactly is he asking?
I’ve assumed he’s asking the same thing he asked of Abraham because of the way my life’s gone. Delays feel like denials, and as long as marriage and children don’t come, how can you not feel like God is asking you to sacrifice them? Really, it seems he’s left me no choice. He put them on the altar, and now I’m supposed to prove I accept that. Resign myself to the fact the angel isn’t coming, light the match, and move on.
I’ve never been able to.
I’ve felt like a failure of an Abraham.
But I wonder if God’s been up there this whole time trying to tell me, “I never asked you to be an Abraham.”
I think I’ve been defending something he isn’t even trying to take. And missing what he does want from me in the process.
Notwithstanding what I’ve allowed my circumstances to suggest, God has never asked me to surrender my hope. Delayed its fulfillment, yes, but never once told me to give it up. In fact, I believe he has more than once done the opposite.
What he wants me to surrender is my timeline.
God’s Timeline is Not Plan B
I reached a point about eight years ago where marriage seemed like the only door left in my life that hadn’t opened. Or at least the only door that could ever open more doors. So I’ve waited outside it with increasing despair and decreasing faith, gaze fixated on the doorknob, willing it to turn. Oblivious to all the other doors God was using my experience to open.
Surrendering my timeline took realizing that to explore those open doors did not mean setting fire to this one. It just meant I wouldn’t be wasting my time anymore trying to live chapter nineteen when I hadn’t lived chapter eighteen yet–or whatever chapter God’s timeline has me living now.
In the beginning of this blog, I called those open doors a Plan B I could live with. And initially, when I finally got desperate enough to look for open doors, that’s why I balked at them. Because they were Plan B. None of my friends had to find a Plan B. Why did I have to? Why couldn’t I just have my Plan A like everyone else who got married and entered the natural flow of life?
But on God’s timeline, every door is Plan A or leads to it. Just because he opens them in a different order than you would have doesn’t make them something you have to settle for.
Surrendering by Choice, Not Force
So here’s what my altar scene looks like now. For God’s own perfect reasons, I still can’t have my heart’s deepest desires yet. I have to give him my Isaac. But I surrender him across the altar, not on it. He enters God’s keeping very much alive because someday that’s how God intends to give him back. Then I put the match to the timeline I’ve finally stopped stubbornly clutching, and while it goes up in flame, I accept the doors of my life in the order God opens them.
I don’t have a husband yet. But I have a piano, and I can play it. No children, but I can write, and life without them has given me something to write about.
On my timeline, I agonized over what God hasn’t given.
On his, I’m learning to see and share what he has.
It’s a surrender that better fits Noah Webster’s second definition, which I prefer. “To resign in favor of another.”
To choose God’s way not because he forced you but because it’s just better.
I have never felt more caged than in all the years I spent trying to protect my life story from God. Trusting him to write it, and actually seeing what he’s writing, has been freedom.
What’s Your Story?
Everyone’s stories don’t go like mine any more than they all go like Abraham’s. I know sometimes God does require Isaac on the altar, and he doesn’t send an angel to say never mind. He asks a steep price and you really have to pay it. Sometimes, it seems, whether you’re willing or not.
My answers might bring hope to some. I realize they might discourage others. “Well, that’s nice that you can say that.”
But whichever side this affects you on, the same advice applies. Find out what you can say.
Surrender looks different at every altar. Different things God asks us to burn. Different things he simply asks us to trust him with. Sometimes it’s not something we want on the altar but a lot of garbage we don’t want, yet can’t let go of. Sin. Hatred. The inability to forgive someone. Maybe namely ourselves.
But every altar has two things in common. The God who stands at it with you and how much he loves you. Find him in the surrender, whatever surrender it is, and you don’t just become his. He becomes yours.
If there’s anything you’ve had too tight a grip on, I hope something here will help you give it to God in faith. Leave a comment about your own surrenders, and share this post with anyone you know who might need it.
If This Resonates With You, These Might Too:
Choosing God When it Feels Like He’s Not Choosing You
Can I Stop Waiting For Life to Start Yet?
“I Surrender All” Lyrics
Words by Judson W. Van De Venter Music by Winfield S. Weeden All to Jesus I surrender, All to Him I freely give; I will ever love and trust Him, In His presence daily live. I surrender all, I surrender all; All to Thee, my blessed Savior, I surrender all. All to Jesus I surrender, Humbly at His feet I bow, Worldly pleasures all forsaken, Take me, Jesus, take me now. I surrender all, I surrender all; All to Thee, my blessed Savior, I surrender all. All to Jesus I surrender, Make me, Savior, wholly thine; Let me feel Thy Holy Spirit, Truly know that Thou art mine. I surrender all, I surrender all; All to Thee, my blessed Savior, I surrender all. All to Jesus I surrender, Lord, I give myself to Thee; Fill me with Thy love and power, Let Thy blessing fall on me. I surrender all, I surrender all; All to Thee, my blessed Savior, I surrender all.
Scripture References
- Genesis 22 – Story of Abraham & Isaac
Pin It For Later
When my third child was born, with special needs, that when life gives you lemons, don’t just make lemonade, make it raspberry, or strawberry. We learned all the simple things we take for granted, like rolling over, sitting up, climbing stairs, feeding yourself. Are just that, taken for granted and simple, but important. We have often reflected that God must look down at us, as his children, each with special needs, some more serious than others. He must shake his head at how silly or ridiculous we are. And find joy in the things we overcome. I have learned and re-learned and continue to learn to surrender my will to God. It’s not usually easy. The scriptures have brought such strength. One of my favorites right now is “pray to be conquers” through Christ. (D&C)
God bless you in your endeavors.
I actually thought of a similar scripture as I wrote this post. “We are more than conquerors through him that loved us.” Surrender is about winning. And it is definitely an ongoing process. Thank goodness we serve a patient God. 😊
Thank you for your testimony of surrendering, I too have been through tough things and down an ever changing road, with alot of things I never would have planned for myself in this life. But later of course seeing God’s great wisdom and constant love for me. I am so blessed to have been brought to learning how to surrender my will to His. My life has always been more fulfilling and I have learned and come to so much more by surrendering my will to His, than following my own ‘easy road’ choices.
God bless you in all your righteous desires. And thank you.
I like what you said about being blessed to have learned to surrender your will to God’s. Sometimes it feels like a curse in the moment, but I’m learning like you that trusting him that much is a tremendous blessing that gets you so much farther. Thank you for sharing your thoughts.