Surrender

(Image found HERE )

It snowed here today. Not the thick, wet snow made for sledding and building snowmen, but rather the dry, flurry, frenzy kind. It swirled through the air, dazzling my sight (though never once touching the ground), and I was reminded once more why I am happy here in this place. I live amid rolling hills and changing seasons. And it's funny, having grown up in a place that knows only one season (hot and less hot), I never knew that the season actually had the ability of matching the innards of the soul. But it's most certainly true.

In winter, the world moves inward. The bitter cold keeps doors closed and shades drawn. In winter, the soul moves inward, too. More sitting, more thinking, more pondering what is to come. But then spring arrives, and with it comes growth. New beginnings. Sprinkles of sunshine. And the soul begins to shine, too. The shades are pulled back just a bit, letting the sunlight fill the house and soul with warmth. And before you know it, summer is upon you. The shades are thrown wide open, the world moves outward once more, and all of earth seems fully alive. And the soul, in summer, seems to come alive, too. But time marches ever onward, and we come to autumn. The brilliant colors try and distract us from what is happening, and it works for a time, but in truth, autumn is just dancing both season and soul inward once more.

Right now, amidst the snow, I have a winter soul. Much sitting, thinking, and pondering. But I know that spring is quickly coming, and with it new growth in my life. I think on how it is that I want to grow in this new year, and it keeps coming back to me, this one particular thought.

Surrender.

Just as the earth must surrender and give way to the ever changing seasons, so must I surrender fully to the One who made the seasons. Before I can fully become who I was created to be (and that I desire more than anything), I must first be willing to let go of who I already am. I must surrender in order to spring forth anew. Christ says that whoever tries to save his life (the one he already has), will most certainly lose it (in the end), and whoever is willing to lose his life (to fully surrender it to God), will find it. (Matthew 16:25)

But the trouble is, I don't want to lose anything. The life that I am living, for the good or the bad of it, is the life that I know. So I try and hold on to it with all that I have. Desperately striving to remain in some semblance of control. And then I sit in wonder as it falls apart around me. Every. Single. Time. And I wonder about this laying down of my life. I wonder about complete surrender. Could that really be the answer? In the letting go of me, could I really begin to find me? In the letting go of me, could I really find God? It's scary to think on, but it's what I want.

Change is coming. The snow might continue to circle the sky for awhile longer now, but in a few short weeks it will give way to sunshine and new growth. The same with my soul. Eventually, the sitting and the pondering will have to come to an end, and I will be left with a choice. To grow or not to grow? To change or not to change? To lose my life in order to find it, am I willing to do even that? It's a new year, and I must confess that I am hoping for a new me. But I know the answer lies in only one thing.

Surrender.