This week I’ve been learning again the lesson of unconditional surrender to God.
Let’s face it. I’m hardly where I thought I would be at this time, still single and unpublished, among other things. My long-cherished dreams of family, a writing career, and a life of impact remain unfilled, and with each passing day, it seems more unlikely they ever will be.
I knew when I began this journey that the path God directed me toward was full of risk and the odds were strongly again me. But I also knew that I serve a big God, and odds mean nothing to Him. So I set out, believing that if I walked patiently in obedience, God would open the doors.
Fifteen years later, I’m still waiting.
Don’t misunderstand me. God has provided me everything I’ve needed and so much more. I’m blessed beyond measure in so many ways. But that which I yearn for the most remains beyond my grasp, and frankly, that hurts.
As a result, I’ve thrown a lot of questions at God the past few months. Whys and hows and whens, sometimes in anger, sometimes in despair, many times in confusion. And He hasn’t been exactly forthcoming with answers.
Instead, He has reminded me again what unconditional surrender means: When I became a Christian, I gave up my “right” to demand anything of Him—not that I had that right to begin, any more than clay has the right to demand answers of the potter. But at that moment, I voluntarily submitted to Him, acknowledging that I was not my own; I had been bought with a price.
That means God is free to do with me whatever He pleases. He can bless me—or not. He can use me—or not. It’s His choice.
Does this mean I won’t continue to question? Of course not. And some of those questions will be thrown out in anger and despair and confusion. But I hope that each time I do, I will circle around and be able to say,
“Here I am. I’m Yours. Do with me as You wish.”