There are seasons of life when surrender sounds like a beautiful idea.
Until you’re actually asked to do it.
When the thing you’ve been praying about still hasn’t changed.
When the answer isn’t what you hoped for.
When you don’t know what comes next.
When you’re tired of being strong and even more tired of pretending you know what you’re doing.
How do you surrender when the season is hard?
I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately.
Because I think sometimes we make surrender sound easier than it actually is.
We say things like, “Just give it to God.”
But what does that actually look like when you’re worried?
When you’re disappointed?
When you’re waiting?
When you’re trying to trust God but still find yourself picking the worry back up five minutes later?
I don’t think surrender means we stop caring.
I think surrender means we stop trying to be God.
Surrender doesn’t mean you stop showing up.
There is a difference between surrender and giving up. I think this is something many of us mix up. Is surrender something we say when all of our efforts have failed and we are ready to sit down and say “here you go God” or “I give up, whatever happens happens”.
Surrender doesn’t mean you stop praying, stop planning, stop working, or stop doing the things God has placed in front of you.
It means you stop believing that everything depends on you.
That has been an important realization for me.
Because I can easily turn responsibility into control.
I can take something God has entrusted to me and quietly convince myself that it is also my job to make sure everything works out perfectly.
But those are two very different things.
We are called to be faithful.
We are not called to control the outcome.
And there is freedom in knowing the difference.
Sometimes surrender looks like admitting, “I don’t know.”
I don’t know about you, but I like knowing what comes next.
Ask anyone that knows me, I like having a plan.
I like being able to look at a situation, figure out what needs to happen, and start working toward a solution.
But hard seasons don’t always give us that luxury.
Sometimes there isn’t a clear next step.
Sometimes the answer is wait.
Sometimes the door doesn’t open.
Sometimes you have to keep walking without knowing where the path is leading.
And that can feel incredibly uncomfortable.
But maybe faith was never about knowing everything ahead of time.
“Your word is a lamp for my feet and a light on my path.”
— Psalm 119:105
A lamp gives you enough light for the next step.
Not the entire road.
Maybe I don’t need to know how everything is going to work out.
Maybe I just need enough faith for today.
Surrender means releasing the outcome.
This is the part I find hardest because I want to run to comfort.
I can surrender something to God and then immediately start trying to figure out how He is going to fix it.
I pray.
Then I worry.
I give it to God.
Then I pick it back up.
I tell Him I trust Him.
Then I start making backup plans in my head.
Maybe you know what I mean.
But surrender isn’t a one-time moment where you finally figure out how to trust God perfectly.
Sometimes surrender is a daily decision.
Sometimes it is hourly.
Sometimes it is minute by minute.
“God, I don’t know what You are doing here, but I trust that You do.”
“God, I don’t know how this will turn out, but I know You are with me.”
“God, I can’t control this, so I’m choosing to release it again.”
And maybe that is what abiding looks like in the hard seasons.
Not having perfect faith.
Just continuing to return.
You can be faithful without having all the answers.
I think we put so much pressure on ourselves to figure everything out.
We want to know what the lesson is.
What God is doing.
Why this is happening.
When it will end.
What we are supposed to do next.
But what if we don’t need all of those answers right now?
What if faithfulness can look much simpler?
Get up.
Pray.
Do the next right thing.
Love your people.
Take care of what God has placed in your hands.
Rest when you need to rest.
Ask for help when you need help.
Keep showing up.
Keep trusting.
Keep abiding.
You don’t have to understand the entire season to be faithful in it.
Sometimes the hard season is where we learn to let God be God.
This makes me think of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. God didn’t remove them from their unfortunate situation. He preserved them in the fire.
We want God to change the circumstances.
And sometimes He does.
But sometimes He changes us in the middle of them.
Sometimes the season teaches us that we were carrying things He never asked us to carry.
The outcome.
Other people’s choices.
The timeline.
The future.
The opinions of others.
The need to have everything figured out.
We were never meant to carry all of that.
We are called to faithfully steward what has been placed in our hands.
And then trust God with everything outside of them.
That doesn’t make the hard season easy.
But it does make the weight different.
So what does surrender actually look like?
Maybe it looks less dramatic than we think.
Maybe surrender looks like sitting quietly with God instead of immediately reaching for your phone.
Maybe it looks like praying before you problem-solve.
Maybe it looks like saying, “I don’t know,” without immediately trying to fill the silence with an answer.
Maybe it looks like doing today’s work instead of worrying about tomorrow’s.
Maybe it looks like letting yourself rest because you finally understand that resting doesn’t mean you’re failing.
Maybe it looks like opening your hands and saying:
“God, this is bigger than me.
I don’t know what You’re doing.
I don’t know how this will work out.
But I trust You with it.
Help me be faithful with what You’ve placed in my hands today.”
And then taking the next step.
Not because you know how the story ends.
But because you know Who is writing it.
You don’t have to carry tomorrow today.
If you’re in a hard season right now, I want to remind you of something I am reminding myself of, too:
You don’t have to figure everything out today.
You don’t have to force an answer.
You don’t have to make the uncertainty disappear.
You don’t have to carry the whole season at once.
There is grace for today.
There is enough strength for today.
There is enough wisdom for today’s step.
And there is a God who is already in tomorrow.
Maybe surrender isn’t about finally reaching the point where you aren’t afraid anymore.
Maybe surrender is choosing to trust God while you are still afraid.
Choosing to abide when you don’t understand.
Choosing faithfulness when you can’t see the outcome.
Choosing to live with purpose, not pressure, because you remember that your life was never yours to control in the first place.
So breathe.
Release what isn’t yours to carry.
Take the next faithful step.
And let God be God.
“Abide in me, and I in you.”
— John 15:4
You don’t have to know what comes next.
You just have to stay close to the One who does.
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