I Surrender... All?

If you grew up in church, you may know the old hymn:

"All to Jesus I surrender

All to Him I freely give

I will ever love and trust Him

In His presence daily live

I surrender all

I surrender all

All to Thee my blessed Savior

I surrender all"

This catchy tune is easy to get stuck in your head and you may even hum it while you get groceries or pick up your children from school or clean around the house. But, like so many things, the true meaning can get lost.

What does it mean to surrender all?

Surrender the good, the bad, the ugly. Surrender the joy, the pain, the tears, the heartbreak. Surrender your dreams, your family, your relationships. Surrender your job, your future, your past. Surrender everything that you are, everything that you have been, and everything that you will be to God.

Romans 12:1-2 (NKJV) says, "I beseech you, therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service. And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God."

Hold up. What? A living sacrifice. Jesus, are you sure? 

Without going into too much detail (and, let's be honest, I am no Biblical Historian, so I'm not going to pretend that I am), in the Old Testament and under the Old Covenant, animal sacrifices were used as atonement for your sins. Leviticus 1-7 goes into great detail about burnt offerings and what they are used for in case you're interested. But these animal sacrifices are now obsolete because the Lamb of God, holy and perfect, offered himself as the ultimate sacrifice on the cross. "How much more will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish to God, purify our conscience from dead works to serve the living God" (Hebrews 9:14).

To put it simply: Jesus, who knew no sin, became sin and took on the full wrath of God so that we might live for Him.

And yet, I struggle to remember that on a daily basis. I get so caught up in myself that I fail to focus on the One who made me. I see problems and I immediately try to fix them myself instead of fixing my eyes on Jesus. So often, I walk by sight, not by faith. 

Have there been moments in my life where I step out onto the troubled sea and look towards the One that calms them? Yes, there have been. Unfortunately, though, I am more like the rest of the disciples who stayed in the boat. I often retreat back to the places I know are safe instead of stepping out when God calls my name.

I surrender, but only when and what I want to. 

But God calls us to surrender ALL. Everything. To place everything in his more-than-capable hands and trust that He will lead us and sustain us, even through the fiercest storm.

You see, I hide the parts of myself that I don't want to let go of. I hide my hurt and my pain and the places that I think are too unredeemable. I often believe the lies that the enemy plants in my head: "You're weak. You're too insignificant. Your worries don't matter. Jesus has bigger things to deal with."

The truth is that I have believed in God for most of my life, but I haven't believed Him.

If I truly believed Him, then I would have no problem surrendering my life into His hands. I would cherish the opportunity to do so, knowing and believing full well that His plans for me are good. This His plans are to prosper and not harm me, plans for hope and a future (Jer. 29:11). 

I have head knowledge of all of these things, but not true heart knowledge.

Recently I have been relating to the father in Mark 9. When all hope was lost, this father brought his child to Jesus and said, "If you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us." And Jesus said to him, "'If you can!' All things are possible for one who believes." Immediately the father of the child cried out and said, "I believe; help my unbelief!"

And so this is my prayer for me, and for anyone struggling with total surrender. 

"Lord, I believe, but help my unbelief. Father God, help me to trust You, trust Your plan, trust Your goodness, trust what You can see that I can't. Help me to trust You with my life, my hopes, my dreams, and my disappointments. Lord, help me to truly surrender all to you, every day. Instill in me a newfound faith and help me to overcome my own unbelief, Lord, so I can start taking You at Your Word. When everything in and around me trembles and quakes, help me look to You, my unshakable God. All to you I surrender, all to You I freely give."

(I made this as a screensaver for my phone to help me to remember to pray continually that I will surrender all to Jesus. If you would like one, either click on the picture and download for yourself or let me know and I'll send it to you!)

Consider it Joy

I don’t know if I’ve ever been more excited for a month to end. This has been one of the hardest months of my life, especially since moving to NYC. I would love to say that I chose joy every day over staying in bed. I would love to say that I trusted God throughout the whole month without any hesitation- trusted Him with my finances, my safety, my businesses, my future. I would love to say that, but I can’t. 

As much as it shames me to admit, I was full of doubt and stress and frustration. My faith was shaken in ways I didn’t realize and that let the door open for the enemy to take hold. I know that the devil comes to steal, kill, and destroy and that’s exactly what he was doing. He stole my joy, killed my dreams, and destroyed my sense of peace and belonging.

I know that God called me to NYC for a reason and that I am where I am supposed to be. I just couldn’t shake this overwhelming feeling of doubt. Am I good enough? Am I skinny enough? Am I tough enough? Is my voice strong enough? Am I even supposed to be here? Am I enough? I’m not enough… I’m not enough… I’m not enough…. I let the constant rejection break through my walls and allowed the enemy to plant seeds of doubt and lies in my head.

Throughout all of this, James 1:2-3 kept popping into my head: “Consider it joy, my brothers and sisters, when you face trials of various kinds because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

Consider it joy that almost every shoot I had lined up canceled on me? Consider it joy that I may not make rent? Consider it joy that I have no callbacks, no jobs, nothing lined up? Consider it joy that I have to go to physical therapy for my back, even though we can’t determine a root cause? Consider it joy… Consider it joy…

How easy it is to choose joy when everything is going right. How easy it is to choose joy when there is some earthly thing that you can hold onto. It’s not so easy when nothing seems to be going your way. It’s not so easy when life hurls debris at you from every direction, when you’re caught in the middle of a storm. 

I was listening to a sermon at Calvary Chapel Chattanooga the other day where I was reminded of something: Jesus loves and cares for his bride. He meets us where we are. He wants to take care of us. He wants us to trust Him and lean on Him in everything that we do. He loves us so much that He became sin, even though he was perfect so that we might be bought by His blood to become heirs to the Throne of Heaven. He was beaten, broken, and killed so that we may live… I broke down and wept - not because this was my first (or second or even 100th) time hearing this, but because I hate how easy it is for me to forget. How easy it is for me to fall into my sin nature and wonder “why me?” 

And yet He loves me anyway. Even when I'm frustrated and sad and crying and not believing. Even though I'm me.

Why do I have to be reminded all of the time of God’s goodness and grace? Why isn’t my faith like Abraham’s? Why can’t I seem to do this Christian walk right? Why can’t I find joy despite my circumstances? Why do I try to earn my favor with God? 

Joy comes from Jesus - who was killed and buried, but who was raised to life 3 days later and is sitting at the right hand of God! Joy is not from this earth, but rather a glimpse of what’s to come once we reach our Promised Land. Joy is Jesus - perfect, holy, righteous, loving Jesus who wants nothing more than to have a relationship with us. Joy is knowing WHOSE you are. 

So, here I am. After a terrible month of learning and growing and crying and pretending like everything is okay. Here I am trying to do my best and:

Choose joy, no matter the circumstance.

Laugh even when it’s hard. 

Love when all Hope seems lost. 

Smile when I want to cry. 

Joy is a choice, not contingent on your surroundings. Joy is Jesus. I am not enough on my own. But, I have a Heavenly Father who looks at me and sees Jesus - His holy, perfect son who is enough. And that, my friends, is cause for true Joy.

Busy does not mean Worthy

I will be the first to admit to you that I am busy and always have been.

And I take pride in that.
But I shouldn't.

For some reason, the world has conditioned me to think that being busy means you're making an impact - you're doing all of the right things, meeting the right people, saying the right words, and leaving a mark on those around you.

But what if being busy only means that you're busy.
You're not intentional with your time.
You're not giving people your "best yes."
All you're doing is trying not to drown with all of the commitments that you've made.

For me, I equate being busy with being needed. I want to be needed. It's an addictive feeling, really, to feel needed, wanted, loved, like I'm making a difference.

At any given point in my life, when you asked me how I was doing, I probably could have (and did) respond with, "I'm good! Really busy, but good!"
From growing up in a highly competitive atmosphere, I've always been jumping from one thing to the other. Whether it was studying or exam prep or voice lessons or choir concerts or musical rehearsals or small group or Church, I never learned how to slow down and breathe.

But maybe that's because I never wanted to.

Earlier this year I wrote a blog post entitled "Yes, but not now" which you can read here. In it I wrote about my struggles and disappointments from the first three months of 2017 and how I was learning to Be Still and Know that God is who He says He is.

And so I tried. I did pretty well for the first couple of weeks after writing that article, but soon(er than I would like to admit), I fell back into my old ways of adding things into my life.

"But they are all good things," I reassured myself. And they are. Serving at Church, facilitating a small group, leading another College small group, working at United Way, ramping up my photography business, working out, preparing for a show in August...

These are all good things. But there comes a time when even good things can just become busy.

I use busy as a crutch to validate my worth in the world.*

This happens when you begin to equate your worthiness with busyness. When you are busy for the sake of being busy. When you are busy out of pride.

I kept adding things because I thought I could do it all. I thought if I filled my days with so much stuff, though good, I could run away from the hurt and the pain I was feeling, the anxiety from being in a constant state of transition. I could disguise myself behind a smile and a blanketed answer when asked how I was doing. I could feel a twinge of pride well up inside me when I got to explain all that was going on in my life and look at the shock, amazement, and surprise on people's face when they marvel and exclaim, "I don't know how you do it all, KB!"

And recently I've been realizing something: Being busy does not mean you are worthy.

• You are worthy because God created you for a higher purpose. (Phil. 2:13)
• You are worthy because God breathed breath into your lungs. (Gen. 2:7)
• You are worthy because you were bought at a price. (1 Cor. 6:20)
• You are worthy because you are fearfully and wonderfully made. (Ps. 139:14)
• You are worthy because you are an heir to the Kingdom of Heaven. (Rom. 8:16-17)
• You are worthy because you are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand. (Eph. 2:10)

It is only by the grace and mercy of God that I am here. Only by His breath that I am breathing. Only by His strength that I am standing. Only because of His love that I am living.

I am not worthy because I am busy. I am worthy because I am a daughter to the King.





*I am reading an incredible book right now called Twenty-Two: Letters to a Young Woman Searching for Meaning by Allison Trowbridge (which you can find here), which is where this revelation came from. Whether you're 18 or 58, I suggest reading this book.

Yes, but not now.

Yes, but not now.

When we were growing up, these were some of the worst words to hear.

“Hey mom! Can I have a cookie?”

“Yes, honey, but not until after dinner.”

In that moment, you can just remember your little eyes lighting up at the sound of “yes,” your mouth starts to water and your eager hands twitch to get to that cookie. But then, as you hear your mom continue the sentence and suddenly your “yes” becomes a “not now,” your entire 5 year old world comes crashing down.

Fast-forward 15 years. Now you’re 20 years old, except your life decisions change from cookies before dinner to jobs, internships, masters programs, relationships… Now, there is a whole lot more on your metaphorical plate (and literal plate if we're being honest. Food = bae).

And yet, that same dread creeps through your body when you think you hear God saying "yes, child" when in reality it's "not now."

Since the beginning of 2017, I have experienced a lot of "yes, but not now" moments. Some of you know that I had my eyes (and heart) set on moving to New York in August to attend the Stella Adler Studio of Acting to get my MFA in Musical Theatre. About 3 weeks into this year, I received an email telling me that the program was cancelled. And just like that, my whole world felt like it was coming down around me. Everything that I had worked towards for the past few years, everything that I was so excited about was now gone. After a much heated conversation with God on my way down to Atlanta one early and rainy Saturday morning, I heard Him tell me "be still and know."

My heart hurt. My eyes were swollen from crying. My throat was dry from shouting. My head was pounding. But as I started to calm down, I came up over a hill and saw the beginning of one of the most beautiful sunrises I've ever seen.

Just as the rising sun swept away the rain, I was overcome with a mighty peace that can only come from God.

Be still. Know:

• That He is God.
• That He is Good.
• That He loves me.
• That He has a plan for me.
• That His plans are much bigger than my own.
• That I can be mad at Him all I want, but He still knows what's best.
• That He is preparing me for something that I could never even dream about.
• "For I know that plans I have for you: plans to prosper and not to harm you, plans for a hope and a future."

Plans to prosper, for hope, for a future. I had become so lost inside my own will that I lost sight on God's. 

Right now God has me placed exactly where He wants me to be, even if I don't know why. But as a wise man recently said, "God doesn't owe you an explanation,"* and the sooner I accepted that, the sooner I realized that I wasn't ready for New York.

Not right now. 

So of course, in all of my human-ness (that's a word, right?), I jumped into auditions for a musical.

But I didn't make it.
I gave it my best but it just wasn't what they were looking for.

So I waited. And I prayed. And I cried. And I asked questions. And I studied The Word. And I sought council. And I prayed some more. 

Soon, worship team auditions at my Church were announced and I was ecstatic. I grew up singing all of the songs in church and even led worship when I was in middle and high school. I figured this was the opportunity that God was preparing me for.

So I practiced. And I listened. And I practiced some more. And I memorized. Did I mention I practiced?

And I didn't make it.

The morning of my audition, the Lord closed my ears and I couldn't hear the harmony to the songs I was supposed to sing. I was frustrated and confused and hurt... but mainly I was embarrassed and disappointed in myself. 

This "not now" hurt the most of any of them. I felt like I had a dagger through my chest. I couldn't wrap my head around why God would close my ears when I would be worshiping Him through music and pointing others to Him.

Be STILL and know.

And there it was again. God was calling me to be still and humble myself before him. Not jump into another project, not audition for everyone and their grandma, not constantly seek another opportunity, but be still. Which is hard and I'm daily learning how. But I know it will be worth it, because I know the ONE who spoke the world into being. Who makes the blind to see and raises people from the dead.

Last week at church, my pastor posed a question as we were digging into Acts 9:1-22 -- "How many times does the Lord have to call our name before He has our full attention? What does that say about us?" *

This year alone, the Lord has called my name 3 times.

"Katy Beth. Yes, you are going to perform one day. But not now."

"Katy Beth. Yes, you can sing, but are you truly singing for me?"

"Katy Beth. Yes, I hear your cries to me in the middle of the night but I know what is best for you. I created you. Wait. Rest. Be still and know that I am the living God who loves you and is creating a future for you that is far beyond anything you could hope or imagine."

Katy Beth, my beloved daughter. Yes, but not now. You must first learn to humble yourself before me before I can raise you up among others. 

And so I wait. And rest. And am (struggling to be) still. Just like Samuel, the Lord has had to call my names many times. And I am finally learning to say, "speak Lord, your servant is listening."

And it's hard. And every day I am learning new things about myself and about my Savior. And every day I am overwhelmed at the love and mercy and grace that He continually shows me. I am the worst of sinners, yet He loves me anyway.

And He loves you, too.

My prayer is that you (and I) would open your heart to hear what He is saying. That you would attune your ears to His voice so you know when He is calling. That you would walk by faith, not by sight, especially when nothing seems to be going right. That you would be humble enough to search His will for your life, and when you hear your name being called, that you will say, "Speak Lord, your servant is listening."

And that you would accept the answer, even when it is "Yes, but not now."


* The quoted sermon can be found here *