Seasons of Surrender

The year is 1991. The season is fall. The church is small, rural, and Southern Baptist. The pastor preaches. The choir sings. The congregation worships. A lost and lonely girl watches and listens. She takes it all in. She wonders. She thinks. She ponders. How can the creator of the universe love her? A 19 year old single mother with no direction in life. She is lost. She is lonely. She is in need of a Savior. The pastor finishes his sermon. The congregation continues to sing and worship with the choir. The lost and lonely girl feels a tug on her heart. The Holy Spirit moves and she has no other choice but to follow His lead and surrender all. She surrenders. All.

The year is 2004. July is hot and the due date has come. The hour long drive to the office is overwhelming. The midwife is ready and waiting. The room is quiet, calm, and serene. The contractions are close together. The pain is incomparably intense. The need to push is upon me. I am scared. I am lonely. I feel lost. I push. Nothing. I push again. Nothing. I look longingly into the eyes of my midwife and tell her that I cannot do this. She gently but sternly reminds me that I have no other choice but to surrender. Surrender all. I surrender my body to the pain and I surrender the pain to the One who brings comfort. There, in that moment of surrender, I worship as I give birth to a miracle, our second daughter, Katie Jane Walker.

The year is 2011. The month is May. I don’t want to hear, “Do you know how that happens?” I don’t want to change any more diapers. I don’t want to get up in the middle of the night to nurse a needy infant. I don’t want to wash more baby clothes. I don’t want to be tired twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. I don’t want to gain weight and give my body over to another. I don’t want to wonder if this child is going to live or die. I don’t want to experience the natural process of labor and delivery. I don’t want to be pregnant. And I for sure don’t want to surrender.

But I have no choice. Surrender is my only option. I need to surrender all. And so I do. Tonight as I sit here in my bed with my computer in my lap, I surrender all. I give up my desires, my wants, my dreams….to Him, the one who loves me most and knows me best. I am a vessel willing and longing to be used by my Father.

Use me, Father, for I surrender all.