Surrender

For my whole life, the way the concept of the “fruit of the Spirit” was explained to me never really felt right. There was something in me that always thought “I don’t think that’s what it means.” The verse (Galatians 5:22) says, “ But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self control.” Pastors I’ve heard always explained it saying, “if you’re a Christian, these should be the fruits of your life” – indicating that if I try hard enough, I can be all of those things. I struggled with that because some of those, like peace and patience, are not qualities a person can will himself to have. But, listening to a sermon by Charles Stanley this morning, I learned that those people have it all wrong.

Those qualities are the fruit of the Spirit…capital S Spirit, which refers to the Holy Spirit. Not qualities that I can will myself to have nor qualities that are inherently within me. [side note for non-Christians: Christians believe that the Holy Spirit – part of the Trinity of God – lives in us once we become Christians. The concept of the Trinity is a whole other matter that I don’t fully understand and can’t easily explain, but that’s the concept behind what I’m talking about here.] So, my job is not to try hard to have those qualities. All I have to do is surrender to the Spirit inside me, and those qualities can be mine. Surrender is such a beautiful word here. It doesn’t mean “give up to” in a negative way. When you surrender to God, you don’t become a prisoner – you are set free. Free from all your insecurities, fears, shortcomings, failures. Free from yourself.

I love others because of God in me (the Holy Spirit). I can find joy and peace because God in me knows how everything began and how it will end, and he cannot be shaken. I can be all those things in that verse, but only when I set aside myself (my selfish and prideful tendencies). And I don’t know anything sweeter than surrendering your burden to someone who you know can handle it.

Something that happened to me when I was younger is a good illustration of the same feeling I have when I surrender to God. On my 22^nd birthday, my mom had come to see me in Lubbock, Texas – a few hours’ drive away from where she lives. On the drive home, she was in a horrible car wreck where her car went off the road, flipped over six to eight times and landed upside down in a ditch. I got the call and took off to the hospital in Snyder where the paramedics had taken her. The rest of my family was three or more hours away. I arrived at the hospital to find my mom in a neck brace with blood all over her arms and face. She had several broken ribs, a broken collarbone, a broken hand, and they were very worried about possible internal injuries. She was able to make eye contact with me and squeeze my hand and get out a few words trying to reassure me that she was going to be ok. When I asked the doctors if she was going to be ok, they said they just didn’t know. They were asking me all these questions about her medical history that I was trying to answer and asking me to sign papers regarding the emergency transport. I didn’t know what to do. I was completely alone and could do nothing to help her. Within minutes after I arrived, they loaded her up in the care flight helicopter, and I kissed her check and said goodbye.

I spent the next two hours driving, way over the speed limit, to the bigger hospital in Abilene where they were taking her. I had no idea how she was, what kind of pain she was in or if she’d even be alive when I got there. My grandparents and brother and sister were all in route to the hospital. I fought back tears and tried to hold everything together as I drove, trying to suppress the panic and fear and sadness and aloneness that was threatening to overwhelm me. When I arrived at the hospital in Abilene, I ran as fast as I could to the ER. Right as I walked through the sliding glass doors, I saw my family there. And I started crying. I hugged my brother and sister and grandparents. Before any of them said anything to me, I knew everything was going to be ok. I surrendered all my fears and worries and let myself break down and lose control, letting out all those emotions. My granddad and brother (who are both doctors) told me that Mom was fine other than the broken bones and said that we’d be able to see her shortly.

That’s what it feels like to surrender to the Holy Spirit. Like seeing my family all there in the ER waiting for me, it’s the sweetest sight you’ll ever see – someone to rescue you. And, if I know anything, I know I need to be rescued.