Ugh, surrender

It all started with a simple question - one in which I’ve been asked many, many times when gathered with fellow Christians. What am I holding onto that I need to surrender to God? As I sat there, I actually thought I was doing pretty well. Except I wasn’t. Shocker.

Eva’s been in the hospital for the last two weeks and if I’m not spending time with her then I’m praying and thinking about her. Which led me to ask myself in that moment, a familiar moment, a familiar question. “Do I have faith that God will, once again, heal her?”

As I sat there I got this picture of two hula hoops on the floor. One hula hoop where God resides and one hula hoop where Eva resides. More often than not I have one foot in each. I have one foot in God’s hula hoop to have faith for Eva while keeping one foot in Eva’s hula hoop to make sure that God knows how important my prayers are for her. I’m afraid that if I step fully into God’s hula hoop, then I’ve left Eva behind. And I can’t step fully into Eva’s hula hoop because I can’t leave God behind. So I stay in both so that I can connect the two. (Yes, I’m fully aware of how controlling and non-surrendering that is.)

Sometimes, more often than not, though, I don’t have my feet in either hula hoop. Because, honestly, I’m afraid of my doubts so I walk in circles around them. Like a game of musical chairs, ready to jump in when God moves, tricking myself into thinking that I had faith in God all along.

As I sat there, pondering this question of surrender, I came to a conclusion. I needed to make a choice, take a stand. No more walking around my faith, no more having my feet in two hula hoops. I needed to pick.

But, since that day, I’ve been thinking more about my faith and I’ve realized that I cannot choose a hula hoop. Nor should I. Because I recognize and admit that on this side of heaven, faith will always challenge me and, when I let it, defeat me. So I’m removing the hula hoops and acknowledging what I truly need to surrender.

And that’s my faith.

Ugh! I find faith so freakin’ difficult. I have tried so hard to do as God asks - to live by faith, speak in faith, walk out my faith - and yet, here I, again, lost in faith. Thus the conclusion that I need to lay down my faith before God because when I don’t, I react and stumble and fall or hold too tightly to it or keep it at a safe yet approachable distance. None of which honors God. Nor is it the life God intended for me to live.

No, I need to surrender my faith even to the point of joining a faith recovery group. If such a thing could exist. To sit amongst fellow faith strugglers and acknowledge that I don’t have a good handle on my faith and I need help. To share and borrow faith, to acknowledge the challenge of it, to be able to walk out of the meeting renewed and restored for another week.

As I sit here now, finishing this, I feel lighter. Unburdened by the weight of fought-for faith. Instead, I feel relieved that my faith has been - albeit temporarily (knowing me) - handed over to God for him to carry and then extend it back to me when he knows I can handle it. And then giving it back to him once I’ve messed it up. Each time giving God the opportunity to heal both my faith and me. And then we’ll go at it again. God and me and faith and, ugh, surrender.