The Stories of Our Lives (Part Four)
This is part four in an ongoing series.
Part One: As The Story Turns
Part Two: I Don’t Have A Hallelujah
Part Three: Can You Hear What I Hear?
“Now get up and stand on your feet.”
~ Acts 26:16 (NIV)
The word “surrender” can come with a negative connotation. To surrender evokes visions of fighting to hold on to something we don’t want to release. It means we must “hand over” possession of our “stuff” to someone else.
Usually, this “handing over” is under duress. To surrender means to relent … whether we like it or not.
Grief does not come with a guide book. Nor does it come with a timetable. No mantra or “buck up, buddy” encouragement can remove the pain. Grief never completely fades.
But I know the love of my Heavenly Father. And I’ve known Him long enough to recognize His voice.
For me to “get up”, as he whispered to my heart it was time for me to do, meant I must surrender. Surrender from within the depths of my grief. The tight fists clinging to my pain and bitterness had to open.
From holding on to letting go.
Surrender …
What does that even look like?
Yielding. Releasing. Trusting.
Giving up. Yes, giving up.
Now, hear me out. I assure you I don’t mean turning my back on God and staying in my grief. No, quite the opposite.
Giving up bitterness
Giving up anger
Giving up control
Giving up hopelessness
Giving up means giving it all to God. Giving up means yielding to His purpose.
For me to “give up” meant giving up my identity. The dreams my husband and I had for our future.
Giving up all I thought my life would be. And let’s face it, this is where my anger and bitterness was rooted … “giving up” the life I had with my husband. “Giving up” the hopes and plans we made. “Giving up” the wonderful man I loved with every fiber of my being.
I had already given up so much. And my Papa God was asking me to “give up” again.
Before I could “Get Up”,
I had to “Give Up”
Step three was Surrender. Surrender was not only required, it was necessary on every level for me to let go of what I was holding and focus on my Father’s voice and direction. Surrender was vital to finding freedom. To finding joy.
“I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”
~ Galatians 2:20
When that moment of broken surrender finally came, a flood of relief washed over me. My Papa God wrapped his arms around me, drew me close, and held me as I wept.
But I was no longer crying from hurt and anger. I was crying in surrender to the only power that could help me. My Papa God. So patient. So kind. So strong. So full of love for me.
Even in the muddled mess I had become, my Papa God loved me. He covered me with peace and comfort. He whispered that He loved me. That He treasured me.
That He saw me.
Yet, there was more …
“Baby Girl, put your feet on the floor. I have something to show you.”
Part Five: Step Into The Water
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