Man I am struck by the image painted by this quote today.
I wonder sometimes what surrender to what God is calling me to be really looks like.
I think my image of surrender usually is of a girl sitting quietly with open hands saying “Ok, God… tell me what to do.” In my mind, that girl has not a hair out of place as she sits in that stiff chapel chair. She waits patiently for her answer.
But if I really think about all the times I have surrendered to God – they have all be quite messy.
The image in reality isn’t this perfect portrait my mind likes to paint. Instead, I am on the floor… crumbled.
Because surrendering something you love or something that provides security or something that is known for some greater plan always involves crumbling. It’s messy and imperfect and cloudy.
But on the other side of it… there is so much beauty.
This week on the Into the Deep blog over at BeckyEldredge.com, I wrote about a moment of surrender. It was my second year of teaching in Baton Rouge, LA and I had to decide to stay or to go.
Beyond the words contained in that article, that surrender was so messy. It took years to come back to fully embracing doing something I loved again.
But if I hadn’t opened my hands, if I hadn’t crumbled… I would have missed out on so much.
Crumbling before God does not always mean making some big life change, however. Often, it’s just allowing God to make imperceptible internal changes in you, changes that help you shed your stony self and let others see you exactly as you are.
Changes that let others love you.
You can read about my moment of surrender over at #intothedeep – I hope it helps you as you contemplate your own.
Maybe as Rumi says, we’ve all been stony long enough. My prayer today is that we can allow ourselves to crumble so the wildflowers can flourish at our feet.