In the beginning of 2020, I did several [ultimately futile] things. I organized a trip with friends. Bought a planner. Threw away old hand sanitizer I wasn’t using. I even neglected to stockpile enough toilet paper to last our small family the next 5 years. Foolish, foolish me.
I also sat down and made a list of New Years Goals. I don’t call them “resolutions”, because that particular word births fear and trepidation in my spirit. “Goals” , however, feels safe. And my goals are indeed, very safe. Included are things like “1. Make a window box of flowers” and “6. Drink green tea”.
As I approached Goal #10, however, I hesitated. My heart knew what I wanted most this year; more than flower boxes or teas:
A baby. A healthy baby in my arms – that was my ultimate aim. A sibling for Sophia. A sweet, snuggly picture of grace and healing.
But that goal was anything but safe.
If I’ve learned nothing else over the past couple years, I can at least say I have a deep, abiding appreciation for how not in control I am of my life. My attitude, actions, agreements- yes. Results… eh, not so much. So making a healthy baby my goal felt like trying to make it rain every day for the month of May. Possible, but not really something I had the power to make happen.
I sat there, blue line blinking, wavering between making Goal #10 something superficial or opening myself to heartbreak. I whispered a tiny prayer without words up to heaven. And in reply, I sensed a single word:
Surrender
“ Say what now??” That was not exactly what I had in mind. “Surrender” in my head ( & with my history) smelled like Job &Jesus; suffering and hardships endured with militant joy and tight- lipped discipline. Good things to be sure. But not for me. Not right now. I was ready for some smooth weather sailing this year. Making Goal #10 “Surrender” felt like staring up into God’s blue heavens and singing “Hit me with your best shot!”
No thanks, I’ll pass. You’re kind to offer, but really, I’m good.
Surrender
Call me a coward, I deserve it. I was not feeling any teachable, life- lessons for the year 2020.
But God continued to press upon my heart. So with a sigh and a “You’re going to do what You want anyways” grumble, I wrote down my new number 10. Definitley the black sheep of my little vanilla family of goals. Definitley not safe.
A week later, I got a positive pregnancy test.
After the initial joy & celebration, I remembered my ill-fated list. Suddenly, Goal #10 was instantaneously promoted from a mere nagging irritation to a crushing weight on my mind. “I don’t want to surrender another baby” my heart cried, as I considered my begrudging consent with horror anew. What had I just signed myself for?? I prayed and gave it to God and took it back again a hundred times over the next several weeks.
But the days passed. Prayers were answered. A few scares, but overall healthy test results and finally an early scan that showed nothing apparently wrong; merely a wriggling baby with fingers and toes and a seemingly normal brain. Other things seemed to be on the up and up as well. I had a job & coworkers I loved. Same with Chris. Our daughter was healthy & a daily delight. Bonus – we randomly got a check in the mail that was the exact amount we lacked due to a life change. Our house was looking more beautiful than ever. Even the dog seemed obnoxiously cheery.
I sat over my bible and cup of mostly-decaf coffee and puzzled it all. Why had God asked me to surrender? Where was this horrible thing He planned for me? I mean, for being in the middle of a pandemic, life was going pretty well in my corner of the world. My heart aches for the suffering I saw and still see around me, but as for personal hardship- this was merely a missed turn in CandyLand. Inconvenience sure, but Job-like heart break? Not even kinda. I had started considering giving Him some ideas just to get it over with, when it hit me.
What if he wasn’t asking me to surrender to suffering this time?
What if … what if what He wanted to teach me was to simply set aside my fear of the unknown, and surrender to a future lovingly laid out and planned for me by His kind and knowing hand? What if what He asked me all along, was to simply surrender to the possibility of joy?
The thought was startling. Perception-shifting. And ultimately, one of the most freeing realizations of my life.
I do understand this year isn’t over yet. We’re in the middle of lots of scary unknowns. He may yet ask me to surrender to a plan that I’m not a fan of. I’m purposely writing this article before my 20 week Level 2 anatomy scan this Friday. Why? Because I believe this truth will remain true – even if the fair weather fails.
Because for the first time in a long time, I realized that God didn’t mean mourning and grief to be my only teachers. He can grow me in green pastures too. And that right now, it just might be my season to sing. To lift my hands in glorious praise and sit basking in the sunlight, a simple shadow of a perfect future to come. Those lessons I learned through the giving of my son and other hardships of the last two years have made my joy on this side of the mountain barely containable. No matter what Friday or the future brings, I have been called to joy in this moment. And I will happily surrender to it.
Today, God brought this passage to my mind:
“So I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten… My great army which I sent among you.
You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied,
And praise the name of the Lord your God,
Who has dealt wondrously with you;
And My people shall never be put to shame.
Then you shall know that I am in the midst of Israel:
I am the Lord your God
And there is no other.
My people shall never be put to shame.
– Joel 2:25-32
You may be in a season of hardship right now- many, many people are. You might be in a season where God is asking you to surrender – to both the beautiful and unbearable. From one whose been there, is there, and will go back again probably many times, trust Him. Surrender all & all to Him freely give. Allow yourself to hope for a future and believe He’s with you in your present.
He is indeed worthy of our trust, dear friend. And our whole heart’s unguarded surrender.
Love always,
Kelsey
Miracles Enough 