Faithful Paradox

I am learning that surrender evolves with time and seasons. I have had points in my life in which I have believed that surrender was a one-time act. What I am learning, however, is that it is a repeated posture of the heart that must be practiced over and over and it evolves with time.

When Ezra was sick, I had to reach a point of being able to pray, “not my will but yours be done.” This was incredibly difficult. As a mom, I wanted to see my son healed and flourishing. I wanted to see him grow into an adult. I wanted to see his faith continue to mature and to watch the gifts God had entrusted to him continue to expand. I wanted to see him married and I wanted to be a grandmother to his children. Surrendering to God in Ezra’s sickness was not just surrendering to God’s plan, but it was also a giving up of all that I had hoped and dreamed for my son. It was a process that took both wrestling and time.

I find comfort in remembering that Jesus asked God three times to take the cup from him. His surrender to the Father’s plan was also a process.

For me, this surrender was reaching a point in which I was able to pray, “God, please don’t take him. Please heal him. But if you don’t, I know I will be okay.” It was both surrendering my hope and expectations, but also trusting that because God was with me and writing both my son’s story and my own, I would be okay in the process.

If I’m honest, there have been times I have been uncertain that I would be okay. The pain and sorrow that have gripped my heart have left me wondering if I would ever recover. I have certainly not felt like I would be okay. I have wondered if I would ever smile again; ever have joy and hope again. Once again, however, this has led to another evolution of surrender.

Proverbs 12:15 tells us that “a fool is right in his own eyes.” I have thought a lot about this verse as I consider surrender to the Lord. I have wrestled with the goodness of God and wondered how there could ever be good that could come from losing Ezra; good that God has promised. If I’m honest, I am tempted to believe that any good I will ever see will not be sufficient; will feel like consolation and appeasement.

Tim Keller says that, “the temptation for those who suffer is to assume that because we can’t think of any good purposes God may have for our suffering, there can’t be any. If you can’t imagine a God infinitely wiser and more loving than you, then you won’t be able to trust him and grow in grace.”

I don’t want to be a fool. I don’t want to see myself as right. God has promised that he will “work all things together for good for those who love him” (Romans 8:28). I cannot fathom a scenario in which God will work losing Ezra to cancer for good. I cannot, in my wildest imagination, understand or even begin to dream of a situation where this could be good. And yet this is where the evolution of surrender must rise again in faith, trusting that because my good God has promised that he will work this horrific loss for good, he will do it.

It’s a surrendering of understanding. It’s a surrendering of expectations. It’s surrendering once again to the good hand of God. Surrender evolves. Some days it feels easy and other days it is a hard-fought battle, but it’s worth it every time. I can’t wait to see what good God has.