For a long time, I thought surrender meant failure. I thought it meant giving up, losing control, or admitting I wasn’t strong enough. So I fought. I tried harder. I carried everything on my own and it slowly wore me down. What I didn’t realize was that surrender isn’t about weakness. It’s about honesty. Surrender showed up for me when I finally admitted I couldn’t fix everything. When I stopped pretending, I was okay. When I brought my fear, anger, and exhaustion to God exactly as they were. That’s when things began to shift, not all at once, not perfectly but enough to breathe again.
Surrender didn’t remove the pain overnight. It changed how I walked through it. Instead of holding everything tightly, I learned to open my hands. Instead of demanding answers, I learned to trust presence. God met me in the breaking, not after it. This truth became the heart of my book, Knowing God Through Surrender: The Breaking. It’s a reflection of a dark season and the unexpected healing that came when I stopped striving and started letting go.
If you’re in a place where you’re tired of carrying it all, surrender doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It may be the most courageous step you can take.
