I’m a small girl, swinging my legs back and forth under the pew at the big church. My mother and father are on either side of me. Familiar faces surround me. The organ plays strong and the piano accompanies as the leader at the front sings,
“I surrender all. I surrender all. All to Jesus I surrender, I surrender all.”
And my tender child-heart surrendered what I knew of myself to Jesus. I didn’t understand theology and complicated doctrines. I only understood that Jesus loved me, for the Bible told me so.
I grew older. My feet touched the floor as I sat up straight and listened to the sermon. Again, I heard the invitation, “Surrender. All.” I left my comfortable place on the pew and went forward to kneel at the altar. I wept and surrendered. I thought it was my all.
It seems I’ve surrendered a lot to the Father’s entreating, and each time I think it is everything.
It is the gentle way of our Lord to call for another surrender and another as He reveals my heart to me and says, “Do you love me more than these?”
I don’t always understand the ways of the Spirit. He is mysterious. He is patient and persistent. He is full of grace. He is tenacious and unrelenting, unwilling to let me stay the way I am when there is so much more. There is abundant life in Him, fullness of joy, and He wants that for me. He invites to me to come further still into the place of His perfect will. That requires my surrender.
I want that too. The full-to-overflowing life where I abide in Jesus and His words abide in me and communion is sweet. The place where He walks with me and talks with me and tells me I am His own. Ah, the joys we’ll share.
But sometimes this alludes me. I am caught up with the cares of life, busy schedules, lots to do and time feels fleeting. I think I have to do it all and that it all depends on me, and what would happen if I lost control?
I hear it once more, the call to surrender.
Quiet frantic thoughts.
Once more, I bow to His will and relinquish.
I consider the life Jesus lived in complete submission to the Father’s will. The way to the cross would be horrendous, yet He walked it with purpose and acceptance. He yielded, even as He took His final breath, “Father, into Your hands I comment my spirit.”
And so today, I surrender again. I surrender all that is in my hand and all my hand reaches for, all my heart’s longings, all my hopes and dreams, my today and my tomorrow. I surrender all.
Tomorrow I will do it again.