Meaningful Surrender

What happens when you say yes to your reality? Sometimes saying yes simply means that you surrender to something you are powerless to change anyway. I suggest that surrendering to your individual reality gives you control over the only thing any of us can really control anyway —our attitude. The way in which we incorporate our difficult circumstances into our  lives depends upon an attitude that says, This may look and feel hurtful, but I know we live in a harsh world. I’m going to trust that God will take my situation and create smoothing beautiful; he’s the master of that sort of thing. I need only to do the next right thing—trust him.

If I couldn’t find a way to believe this, my life and my future would look endlessly dark and wasteful. The expression of sorrow is important expressed in healthy ways.  I believe my sorrow has been plentiful, and meaningful.

In 2011, when I was fifty-six years old, I suffered a brain hemorrhage, a subsequent stroke and a blood clot on my brain. The life I had always known was over. I nearly didn’t leave the hospital alive.  Additionally, I had only been married to the love of my life for six years. For a time I was devastated.

I still remember the horror I felt on one particular night, about six months after my brain bled. My surgeon had told me that I likely wouldn’t improve much beyond six months to a year. I had been working very hard for any improvement at all. Sitting at the dinner table that night, I was having my usual difficulty getting food from my fork to my mouth with the necessity of using my non-dominant hand. I knew there was a strong possibility that I was as good as I was going to get. John briefly left the table to adjust the volume of the music playing in the background. When I thought he wouldn’t see me, my head dropped, my chin to my chest and I began to silently sob.  (It’s important to know  that I seldom  cry). I truly thought I felt  felt my heart breaking into a million small, sharp shards. Instantaneously, something clicked in my brain just then and I glimpsed my future. I had been trying hard to be cheerful and optimistic. I didn’t believe John needed the added stress of listening to my fears and frustrations. I was at the six month mark and had not improved significantly. This was my night of reckoning. I suddenly knew I would probably never return to my former self. My future was beyond my ability to imagine and felt bleak.

I was no stranger to hard work. I had assumed that I could accomplish anything if I was willing to put forth the effort—and I was. I was wrong. What would my life be like, now that I knew that wasn't  true? I had no frame of reference, and I was devastated. I wondered if the captain of a sinking ship felt this way just before he went down with the ship, surrendering to the sucking, black waters.

It didn’t happen immediately, but over the next few weeks I began to submit to my new life. The alternative, to become a bitter and angry person was not acceptable. What would that accomplish anyway. I read scripture. For as long as I have been studying the Bible, about forty years, my favorite verse has always been Romans 8:28:  We are confident that God is able to orchestrate everything to work toward something good and beautiful when we love Him and accept His invitation to live according to His plan. (VOICE translation)

It hasn’t been easy; the road hasn’t been straight, but I think I have reached about 90% acceptance of my new life. Grief still washes over me at times, but the waves don’t overwhelm me; I know I won’t drown. I find that grief gets integrated into my being, it’s part of who I am. In the meantime, I continue to find ways to adapt, accomplishing what I can.

I share this because I believe my story is not unique. We have all faced disappointment and some combination of physical, emotional and spiritual pain. It helps to remember we’re not alone. In spite of outward appearances, we are all suffering to varying degrees at any given time. It’s simply part of life.

Please join me in asking God to turn our pain into purpose. Pray also that our lives will count for Christ in ways they never have before.