If there’s a stubbornness gene, I got it bad from both sides. This isn’t always a bad thing, but more often than not I find myself fighting things that were maybe never worth the fight… Like Beyond Waiting.
It took me forever to surrender to this book/blog thing. And maybe I could justify my hesitations by pointing out that Beyond Waiting was what we like to call a “major life decision,” but the problem with that argument is that I never had a single doubt that it was God’s will; it was simply not something my storytelling self wanted to get into.
This last weekend I heard not one, but two messages on asking God to make His will your priority. Stubborn or not, I did get the message the first time; the second time was merely driving it home.
Because I’m doing it again. The stubbornness thing. I’ve been so caught up in what I want to write that I’ve been resisting the story I’ve known I was meant to write all along. And until Weyman Howard offered me the invitation to make a choice, I thought I had already made it.
Turns out, I wasn’t surrendered to the story after all; I was merely resigned to it. And there’s a bit of a difference in the words resign and surrender.
1. To submit (oneself) passively; accept as inevitable
1. To relinquish possession or control of to another because of demand or compulsion
2. To give up in favor of another
3. To give up or give back (something that has been granted)
I’ve been complaining about all levels of stuck-ness and it all finally makes sense. Because it’s hard to find inspiration in something you view as inevitable. There is no passion in passivity.
What I need is to walk away from resignation and fall headlong into surrender.
Because once upon a time, I was compelled to relinquish possession of my words.
Once upon a time, I gave up the story I yearned to write in favor of the one I was called to write.
Once upon a time, I placed my God-given gift back in my Father’s hands.
And the words flooded from my fingertips and came to life on the page. And I started receiving messages from young women I have never met saying, “Thank you for your words. I’ve needed them for so long.” And it was miraculous. The surrender was nothing short of miraculous.
Because it is only in the surrender that I find His power flowing through me.
Only in the surrender do I find that the words come easily as if they are being dictated as I merely write them down.
Only in the surrender do I finally capture that elusive ninth chapter that has haunted me for so long.
So, yes, I think it’s time we relearn the art of surrender.