Sweet Surrender

18 Mar

They say that our initial impression of God is often based on how we perceived authority figures as children. Apparently we transfer our relationships with our parents on to God until we experience a different relationship with Him other than one based on our limited perspectives of Divinity. 

That pretty much sums up my first impression of God. Because my parents were loving, I’ve always experienced God as being so too, but because my parents had addiction problems, at some point I learned not to rely 100% on the big people – if at all. I learned how to take care of myself (i.e. get by and be hyper-responsible) and naively thought that if I tried hard enough, I could control things – like whether or not my parents drank or used. Before I learned that the latter was impossible, I’d already become a control freak. It was too late.

Now I’m not overtly obnoxious. And I know how to let loose and let my hair down so I’m not a complete control freak. But when under stress or not trusting Him, I revert back to the little kid trying to run the show. I try to mange people, places and things instead of letting go and letting God. And I’m sure I get a little irritating to some for my know it all ways and busy body, manipulative energy.

The other day I was at a prayer vigil at my church and the pastor started talking about the word “surrender.” He was talking about the word in a slightly bigger context than I am here. For instance, he suggested surrendering a long held grudge or destructive, behavior pattern. He said, “Anyone needing to surrender, get down on your knees and ask God. Right now. Here. It’s okay.” And I’m thinking, “We don’t have any pews. I’m not going down. I’m not going to draw attention to myself.” Yet deep down I knew I was one of those needing to submit. I knew I needed to surrender my stress, my recent impulses to control and my fears of God not having my back as I take some professional and financial risks. So I bowed my head as my form of submission. But as the prayer and music went on, I thought, “What the hell. It’s just Journey (the name of the church) and just God.” So I crouched down in my aisle and made myself real small in a ball – child’s pose – so no one could see me down there on the floor. And for a few minutes, I breathed. I relaxed. I let go and let God. And I caved into “sweet surrender.” And for a few moments – hours – I let go. I was so relaxed when I got home, I fell asleep watching t.v. which NEVER happens. But it did because I had let God hold me in His arms and take care of me that evening. 

Interesting, all the things I’ve not been trusting Him about have been for naught. He keeps providing unique opportunities and resources for me WHEN I listen to the direction He wants me to take. When I stop trying to be the one woman show without any reliance on him. Abba. Father. 

I think of my cats and how they fully surrender themselves to me as I hold them in my arms. 

Like Ally McBeal, I’m picking a personal theme song. It’s Sarah McLachlan’s “Sweet Surrender.” And I better get down on my knees daily for “It’s all that I have to give.”

One Response to “Sweet Surrender”

  1. Stephanie March 18, 2010 at 2:48 am #

    I should have been there right next you, knees on the floor, at Selah. Surrender is so sweet, and so hard. Even to our wonderful God. You are beautiful and inspiring!

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