Fully Surrendered

                                                 

                                              

Fully Surrendered                                    

I stood in front of the beautiful, snow laced scenery.  I admired the beauty of the mountains, the trees and landscape all covered in white and the icy river that divided the land.  I let my eyes rest on the aged wood that laid out as a shield before me in the form of a study fence. Protecting me from the vastness on the other side that held so much mystery and uncertainty.  I decided to imagine what it would feel like to pretend the fence gone. I was surprised by the quickening of my heart rate and rush of adrenaline and anxiousness I felt almost immediately once I did!  I was even more surprised at this kind of reaction and the vividness of my imagination as this snow covered scene was merely a mural on a wall in the quiet room where I stood. I have been reminded on a few recent and clustered occasions in the last few weeks, how much I love comfort and I couldn’t help but wonder if this painted fence that made me somehow feel secure was yet another reminder of how much I cling to all things comfortable.

It felt safe standing on this side of the fence and just admiring the beauty that crawled up deep and wide on the other side.  Imagining it gone took my breath away as I would be standing open and vulnerable to who knows what. In that moment the thought came to my mind, “What you see as security, actually is a barrier keeping you from more.”  Oh Lord! Haven’t I been praying for more? More depth, more of You, more surrender? And here I am clinging to a snow covered fence and thinking that I am free! My oldest daughter, put it so well later that day when I was talking to her about it when she said, “What we think is keeping the bad stuff out is often the very thing that’s just keeping us in.”  We are the ones missing out. He has set the whole wilderness before us and invites us to join Him, but we are more comfortable skating in circles and clinging to the wall as we go around and around and around our much smaller and more predictable path.

“Lord! This is not what I want! I mean I do!  I really do! I like my comfort. Actually I probably love it more than You because I choose it more often, but I want to want You more! I want to be ready to let go! Please help me! I hear You, You have been gently speaking this message to me and I want to let go. I had already thought I was brave enough, but apparently it depends on what You are asking.  I want to be all in. I want to go where You are and you don’t stay snug behind fences. You cannot be contained. Let fences fall where they need to fall. Let me stand before the unknown and vastness unafraid. Uninhibited. Fully ready, fully surrendered. That is what I was made for and I know it! Fully given into Your love and service. No questions. No doubts. No Fear.  Fully Free. Fully Intent. Arms wide open, hair blowing wild in the wind at the base of this vast mountainside, eager to meet the unknown, knowing that You go before me. Fences down. “I can’t seek His ways and follow Him with just my mouth! One step forward of many more. Here we go.

I make my way to an empty chair in this prayer room.  I was showing an old friend this space right before all of this happened.  She has already found a cozy place. I am just getting settled into this squishy throne of a chair.  Pulling out my bible and my journal and all the right things, still processing this lesson the Lord gave me and the surrender that just took place. I will jot it down in my journal after I read some scripture.  I just get comfortable as I hear the door open behind me. I instinctively look. It’s a woman rolling in on a throne less comfortable than the one I am sitting in. I look away quickly, regretting that I looked back at all because something pricks me when I do that threatens my comfort.  I put my head down into my scriptures. I would prefer to mind my own business. Some recent words of a speaker parade themselves through mind about the purpose of the gifts and how they aren’t meant to be if we feel like it. They are for the benefit of the church. “I can’t Lord; I am trying to read my bible. “I am embarrassed at the sound of my own response and how pharisaical I sound.  I am feeling a  very clear nudge to go pray for her. “Lord,” the rule follower in me protests, “this is a room of silence, I can’t pray out loud for someone without disturbing the other people!” I realize the ridiculousness of what I am saying as it slips out to Him. Why wouldn’t the prayer room be the perfect place to pray for someone if the Lord says to. I am reminded again of the Pharisees and them protesting the Lord healing people on the Sabbath.  It highlights again how absurd my resistance is. The next thing that comes to mind is, “Obedience to Christ doesn’t always fit into man’s rules.” Of course. Well, now I am completely uncomfortable. I am getting up to pray for a complete stranger in a room that is supposed to be quiet with other strangers, and going to pray healing for a lady in a wheelchair! I have never done this before. Thankfully, the week before, Jesse and I got to be a part of praying for two women for healing. One couldn’t move her head fully to the left and the other lost her sense of smell. To be honest, I was just as surprised as they were when they both received healing right before our eyes! I’m not surprised that the Lord heals and I have heard stories, but to be a part of it, this is new to me, but it’s nothing new to God! Isn’t this what I surrendered to? Whatever unknowns He would invite me into? It always seems way more romantic and adventurous when we come to a place of surrender than when we get called out to walk in it.  I take a step forward and as I do, a fence falls down simultaneously with my tears. Yes, I am literally crying in some combination of discomfort and surrender. Are they always one in the same? I look over at Sara. What will she think? Why when she’s in here? Enough questions. I make my way to this precious woman and I kneel down next to the cozy chair she had gotten herself into. She looks as though she were expecting me. For whatever reason I apologize for coming to pray for her and let her know I don’t usually approach strangers to pray for healing, and that this is new for me. Tears are still falling down my cheek.  She is the warmest and the kindest. “I am not a stranger”, she quickly tells me. “My name is Allison, what is yours?” “Amanda.” I tell her. She notes the simplicity of our names both beginning with As. “Is it ok if I put my hands on your legs to pray for you?”, I ask her? She is eager for me to. She let me know she it was M.S. Oh Lord, please! Now my tears are flowing out of compassion and the desire for this lady to have her body back. I clumsily pray for healing. I can’t describe what I felt for her as I was praying, but I was overcome with love for her and felt like I had always known her. I give her a big hug and through more tears tell her, “I love you.  I really do.” And I mean it. “I know,” she tells me, “I love you too.” I let her know where I am sitting in case she starts feeling any different. She assures me she will let me know. I make my way back to my seat and I am undone. The once silent room is now filled with the sound of Allison and I both crying and sniffling from our own places. And it’s fine.

“Oh Lord, You answer those prayers of surrender mighty quick,” I pray as I sit there with my wet face in my hands.  Thank you for giving me courage. Thank you for knocking another fence down.

I sit a while longer to journal and then pack up to leave.  I rip out a piece of journal paper and scribble my name and number on it.  I set it on the arm of Allison’s chair on my way out the door. She smiles warmly and says, “I’ll let you know when I am walking a jumping around.”  I giggle for some dumb reason and notice it when I see the faith in her eyes. She’s right. Why shouldn’t we expect a miracle. I nod and return her smile and make my way out the door and to the elevator.  No sooner do I make it to the first floor when my phone beeps with a new message. It’s from Allison and she tells that she prayed that morning and told the Lord she needed to feel His love from someone with skin on today and that I was that someone!  Wow! I was so blown away and humbled. We also decided through that sting of texts, that we hadn’t quite had enough of one another and are booking an upcoming lunch date. Look what my love for comfort would’ve not just robbed me, but someone else. Also, this certainly wasn’t the first time I felt called to step out, but there have been some recent times before this that I ignored it. I wonder what I missed out on.  Worse yet I wonder what I may have kept back from someone else? Though the Lord takes good care of His kids and may use someone else when I’m not cooperative, I don’t think I want to miss out anymore…