Surrender.
Such a powerful word, and an even more powerful reality. Maybe I used this word in the context of my faith before leaving home, but if I did it was not particularly heartfelt or frequent.
In the American culture, we do not usually use this word with any positive implication…countries surrender in war when enough men die, criminals surrender to the police when held at gunpoint, people surrender their homes when in foreclosure, and accused teenagers surrender when enough evidence is found to support suspected misbehavior.
We picture people on their knees, hands in the air, tears running down their faces, and hopelessness filling their hearts. Nothing about this image makes people want to be in a place of having to surrender anything. To be in a literal or figurative posture of surrender means turning over control and ownership of of something you do not want to let go of.
Both the word and the concept of surrender have been all around me since coming on this Race. One little thing at a time, God has shown me how to surrender my own imperfect ideas and desires and allow them to become His.
In month 1, El Salvador, I was smacked in the face with opportunities to surrender at every turn…the reality of not having any control of my schedule, environment, diet, team mates, ministry opportunities, or anything else hit me hard. Coming from a place where I was blessed enough to make my own decisions in practically every area of life, stepping into the World Race environment was irritating and overwhelming to say the least.
Church services were in a language I did not understand…I had to surrender the idea that going to church was about being filled up by the Lord.
Sleeping in a tiny room with 5 to 7 girls was hot, crowded, and noisy…I had to surrender the notion that I deserved completely comfortable sleep in order to function well.
The food, although usually delicious, was greasy, processed, and salted to the max, and exercise options were limited. My skin has been oily, sweaty, and pimply for 6 solid months, and areas that were once toned and trim are slowly becoming a little more squishy and little less shapely. I had to surrender what I thought that my body and my beauty should be.
Ministry was not usually an overly emotional, self-satisfying “Look what we did!” experience…I had to surrender the right to doing the Lord’s work on my own terms and for my own fulfillment instead of His.
As the year has progressed, the aspects of life I clung to for control over in month 1 no longer occupy my mind. I have surrendered my right to have control over the comforts and conveniences of my environment. The peace that has followed that surrender has relieved so much stress…I do not worry whatsoever about my accommodations, food, or ministry next month because I gave that worry and control to God.
Once this became a truth in my life, the Lord began to push me to surrender in ways that trust Him with my spirit and not just my physical body and environment.
In Nicaragua, Father God opened my eyes to an area of my life I still held onto for control. A wound that was so deep and so festering that I could not acknowledge it without crying came screaming to the surface when I shared my testimony with my team.
I thought maybe if I walked quickly enough and talked loudly enough this ugly wound would eventually go away, but really I was trying to nurse it myself, using self-guided ideas about how to heal it and move forward. I was trying to balance everyone else’s feelings and opinions about it at all times, assuming that it was my responsibility to bring the greatest possible peace to everyone involved in this heart-wrenching time in my past. I had been holding onto it, controlling it, sweet-talking myself into the idea that I had moved forward, and essentially “playing God” in my attempts to heal everyone else too.
After writing, praying, fasting, and talking to team mates, I found myself sitting on the floor in the bathroom, crying so hard I couldn’t breathe or see straight, nauseous and overwhelmed with finally letting myself feel the pain I had denied myself while trying to deal with everyone else’s. I felt as though the pain that I had shoved aside for so long was finally surfacing ten-fold what it would have been if I had recognized my brokenness in the first place.
I was such a hysterical, gasping, snotty, slobbery mess that I realized how weak and broken I was, and told the only One who decided whether or not I could take my next breath to please take control and begin the process of healing myself and everyone involved in the creation of this wound.
And so I surrendered one of the most painful parts of my past, humbly asking for healing in myself and others.
Going into my third month as a team leader, I was under the impression I had learned what it meant to surrender team leadership to God. Most people don’t understand why being a team leader is stressful until they do it. Being asked to advocate for the physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being for six adults at all times leaves plenty of room for interpretation, and I suppose it is up to the team leader how much they choose to truly invest in his or her team.
This is not an entirely foreign concept to me. As an adult cardiac nurse, I have known what it means to handle 5 or 6 very sick peoples dire needs at once, which are most often in the physical realm. But as a team leader, it is a 24/7 job of trying to juggle how people are doing spiritually and relationally, in addition to communicating with the ministry hosts and handling logistical planning. I personally take it seriously, feeling as if God entrusted me to do this and do it well, so I suppose it is possible that the stress level of this role depends entirely on the individual.
If I had truly surrendered team leadership to God, then why was my stomach in knots so often over miscommunications about plans between our hosts and our team? Why was I constantly worried about interpersonal difficulties on my team? Why did I wake up with a sense of dread over the impending hard conversations, confusion, hurt feelings, and irritations that every day seemed to bring?
Sneaking off for an hour or so in the morning to talk to God allowed Him to reveal to me that I was still holding onto control of my position on the team. So I finally let myself listen when Jesus said “I am the leader, you are the messenger.” And I finally surrendered being a team leader.
Unlike in the secular world, a posture of surrender is a beautiful thing in the life of a Christian. Ironically, when it comes to God’s will and power, true surrender is the only thing that can bring true freedom.
Personally, I am more excited than ever to fully realize that I have an all-knowing and all-loving God that I can fall on my knees, hands out in the universal sign of surrender, and tell Him to take all stress, anxiety, and fear away from me.
It’s like therapy for me, missionary variety.
