Can I tell you about the time I sat in church willingly for four hours? If it wasn’t already obvious, I am going to share regardless. Sunday morning in Manhattan started off slowly and I knew I needed to ready my heart, soul, and mind for another week of work. My community mate and I sat through the first service of church then decided to wait to hear another service as well.
Between services, we discussed all of the ways in which the world could be a better place, we talked about the structure of society, our separate perspectives from our walks of life, we discussed the current events in politics and the world, we talked about the cycles of oppression and poverty our youth face every day until we came to the end of rationalizing and still had zero answers to any of the issues we’d brought to the surface. We’d come to the end of ourselves. We’d arrived at the extent of our power. We’d reached the end of our knowledge. And still there was more unrest. I felt powerless, because even facing the unrest in conversation settled nothing, it only unsettled my soul. This is the place I like to call the God gap. There is a chasm between what my abilities can accomplish and the solution. Suddenly, all of the worldly empowerment about how I am a strong, independent, educated woman seemed inadequate in comparison to the task before me. See, God never asked me to bring Him my strength, He asked me to lean on His. The catch is I must surrender my ways in replacement for His.
Fortunately, God coincidentally interrupted our conversation as the next service began, we were ushered into worship once again and our pastor took the stage to continue the second message in a series he’d begun at the beginning of the year. And of course, his message met me right where I was at. He reminded me it is not our job to get more political, it is our job to pray and to love people. He said even though the world around us may be changing, our calling has not changed. My calling is still to follow Jesus. He beckoned us to not settle for our potential, but to believe for the supernatural. He stated, “Your level of strength is directly related to your level of surrender.”
Suddenly, I felt silly for worrying. At the beginning of this year, I’d decided to focus on surrendering to God. Yet, here I was getting lost in what I could do, when it’s not about what I can do, it’s what God can do. I just have to follow Him. So, I will believe, I will listen, I will pray, and I will love.
As we left church, we ogled over how God heard our concerns and our worry and He reminded us to give them to Him, to surrender everything to Him. I used to think surrender meant losing, it meant admitting I wasn’t enough and that remains true. However, there is one worth losing to. Jesus. Even though, surrender is a daily struggle, I bask in how sweet surrender is. It’s the only loss, which makes me victorious. And so I surrender. I surrender all.