Tag: Surrender

Kingdoms and Treasures > Surrender
Blog
December 9, 20230

Hope and Freedom: Initial Thoughts on Luther Smith Jr.’s New Book Hope Is Here

            This month I started reading Hope Is Here by Luther Smith, who is a Howard Thurman scholar and an individual who has played an important role in the justice movement in Atlanta and other places. Sometimes I go into a book thinking I will fly through it because it is so good. This book is not that. This is a book for savoring, the way you let a perfect piece of chocolate melt on your tongue or the way you soak in the sun’s rays on a crisp fall day. Right now, I am savoring the way Smith relates hope to the Great Cloud of witnesses versus the “tyranny of the familiar.”

            Referring to Hebrews 11:39-40, he says, “We look to the (great cloud of) witnesses as icons in our resourceful past, and the witnesses look to us as promise bearers for a fulfilled future.”[1] They are urging us toward greater hope, faith, and love. Hope is not just about something we desire in the future, it is about the way we live right now. It is an act of faith that lets go of predictable outcomes in favor of freedom. 

            To be free is to be unattached to anything but the grace and love of God. It is the freedom to live from your core essence, a mirror image of God only you can bear. This unhindered way of living is wrapped up in hope. Smith states, “… hope inspires us to imagine creatively, perceive reality anew, persevere in despair, risk with opportunities, and trust beyond our control. Hope exists with the purpose of expanding our awareness and hearts to experience God’s abiding love through all creation—including ourselves.”[2] With this type of hope we are invited to live in a way that keeps the saints on the edge of their seats. It is not mundane or predictable, but it is unique to each person’s reality.

            In my work with individuals who have experienced trauma or abuse in Church settings, hope is a loaded word. But it is hope that invites my clients and directees to continue their healing journey. It is hope that washes away expected outcomes, and nurtures curiosity and wonder about themselves and the world around them. The healing journey is not about living life like everyone else, but it is about living in a way only you can. It starts in the core of your being, which holds the purest sense of the Imago Dei woven into your DNA, and it seeps its way through your entire soul. As Howard Thurman once said in a commencement address to Spelman graduates, “You are the only you that has ever lived: your idiom is the only idiom of its kind in all of existence and if you cannot hear the sound of the genuine in you, you will all your life spend your days on the ends of strings that somebody else pulls…” [3] Those strings are what Smith refers to as the “tyranny of the familiar.” 

Smith acknowledges the freedom that accompanies hope can be scary because we lose a sense of control, whereas the “tyranny of the familiar” brings a sense that we have power over the outcomes of our lives. I recall having my whole life planned out in my twenties, and I can also remember God’s invitation to surrender all at that time. My answer to God was no because I was afraid, I would not get to do the things I wanted to in life. In fact, all of my human efforts to get those things failed, and the path of letting go of familiar outcomes was a painful journey. However, hope remained through all the difficult seasons and what I have today is so much better than anything I could have ever predicted. What I have has nothing to do with life circumstances or material possessions, but it is completely rooted in active hope, love, and the amazing humans (both present and past) who anchor me in beloved community. My story is uniquely mine, and my hope is that I am faithful to my chapter in the book of the Great Cloud of Witness. It is a life-long process, and we are invited to join hope every day of our life.  May hope find you today and draw you into the beloved community of saints that surrounds us all. 

Luther Smith talks about the correlation between hope, beloved community, and justice in Hope Is Here. I’ll be relishing each chapter during Advent and you are invited to join me and tell me what you think! Blessings in this Advent Season and Merry Christmas.

[1] Luther E. Smith Jr., Hope Is Here: Spiritual Practices for Pursuing Justice and Beloved Community (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2023), 33.

[2] Ibid., 6.

[3] Howard Thurman, The Sound of The Genuine: Baccalaureate Ceremony (Emory Archives audio/transcription: Spellman College, May 4, 1980), retrieved from https://thurman.pitts.emory.edu/items/show/838.

Blog
March 29, 20230

My Little Gethsemane by Lisa Marie Byrd

Since October 28, 2022, when my flight landed at Washington Reagan National Airport in DC, I have experienced several bizarre firsts. It was the first time I would live without at least one of my children in the house since I started having them. I miss them all terribly and wonder why we ever let them grow up and move away. The first time I rented out a room in a house, which was quite an adjustment because I own a whole house in Georgia. 

It was the first time I had been without a car to get to and from work. I had the bright idea that I would take the bus/train service like so many others in the area.  Experience new things in a new city. And I did. For a month. Then I realized, after witnessing far more “firsts” than I have time to relay here, that public transportation life was not for me. So, I bought a car—not my first. 

There was the first time I heard that there was a shooter outside my job. Someone trying desperately to outrun the shooter had flown around the corner and crashed his vehicle into two of the cars belonging to our employees. As our staff looked out to see what caused the commotion, they saw a man out front shooting toward the out-of-control vehicle. Either the man’s angel was in full effect that day or the offender was using blanks because no one was actually hit by a bullet. Thankfully. I wasn’t there that morning. I was picking up my new car. I felt God had blessed me with favor by sparing me that terrifying experience. 

Nope. 

Less than two weeks later was the first time I heard gunshots outside of my job… well, outside of television actually. Because I had no frame of reference for the sound, I stood up to look out the window, expecting to see items falling from a truck. Maybe. And because I guess I was due for a twofer, it was also the first time I saw people shooting real guns. In broad daylight. Right outside the window of my job. 

I started looking for a new job that very night. The fact that I had been there less than six weeks meant absolutely nothing to me. I was afraid for my life (first time). I became anxious about going to and leaving work (first time). Each time I got to DC from where I lived in Virginia, the fear rose. I was hyper-vigilant and extremely tense. Constantly on guard for the next bad thing to happen. However, I didn’t have any peace about taking a different job. I felt I was supposed to be there on one hand, and like I needed to be Speedy Gonzales out of there on the other. Deep below the surface of my frightening circumstances, there was a gentle, constant reassuring of the Holy Spirit that I was where I should be.  

Then one of our clients died onsite. And it was the first time I touched a dead body outside of a family member at a funeral. I checked for a pulse preparing to do CPR and felt a stiff, hardened dead person instead. Now God and I had to have a talk. 

Of all the things that ran through my head while waiting for the police to arrive, next the detective, finally the coroner, then checking on and processing with my staff to make sure they were ok enough given the situation, my top thought was “I still have a house in Georgia.” And a very close second, “I’m going home.” 

All I wanted to do was dive under the covers for the night. However, a wise friend suggested I workout first to relieve the stress of the day. As I took the first few steps on my walk that evening, the magnitude and pressure of the day lifted, my body relaxed, and I cried for the first time that day. And prayed: What is this nightmare of a place you’ve called me to, Lord? Maybe I heard wrong. I’m hoping I heard wrong. God, I need to know with complete clarity what your will is for me here. 

And with no hesitation, I clearly heard, “You are there to be the light.” 

WHAT?!?! That was definitely not the answer I was looking for. I’m not sure what I expected to hear, if anything, but it was nowhere remotely close to that! I suddenly felt a deeper connection to Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane. The night before he was crucified, our Lord asked God to deliver him from the horrific beating and suffocating death he was about to face. Jesus basically prayed, “I still have a house in heaven.” And “I want to go home.” 

Then in the ultimate display of unfathomable love for us, he said, “Nevertheless, I will do your will, not my own.” (Luke 22:42)

While I am as far from that level of sacrifice as the ocean floor is from the moon, farther actually, I accepted my assignment and from that walk to this day have felt an indescribable peace about staying at this job for however long God determines. The constant anxiety around the windows at work is gone. The stress related to walking to and from my car has dissipated. I have relaxed and started focusing on the mission. I pray more. Listen more. And look for opportunities to glow. 

Obedience to God can be very hard. It can be scary, the opposite of logical, exhausting, taxing, lonely, and nerve-wracking. And I am learning, amid all, to trust His plan. I have lived through enough challenges to know that as I remain faithful the Lord provides, does the impossible, brings glory to himself, and actualizes His purpose in my life and those I’m supposed to impact in the world. 

Still, in all honesty, I am hoping to get this season completed as soon as possible. Until then, I am humbled and honored to be called light by THE light of the world. 

Blog
April 22, 20200

Peace Be With You

It rests within him as he lies upon the boat, curled up among the ropes and nets. The ship’s mast cries out a like a hundred whips lashing the sky. Deep rest soothes his soul and permeates his being. No storm, no circumstance alters his path. He lives from the core of his being. This is the place in him that lives in us. Frantic voices cry out, “The storm! We are all going to die!” The presence of peace muffles out the furor of the rising tempest. It is a peace obtained through gentle surrender. Each day, not his own but given up to the will of his Father. He knows his path lies in the shadow of giant footprints. Will you follow him? 

This morning, as I practiced an Ignatian exercise, I meditated on the phrase, “I rest in your peace.”[1] My brain transported me to an ancient ship fighting the mighty gales of an unpredictable storm. I was curled up next to Jesus resting in his presence. It was as if we were sleeping within a bubble of light protecting us from the storm. It was bliss. 

Shortly after my time with Jesus I was reading the latest news about the COVID-19 epidemic. Anxiety swelled up within me. Like the disciples, I wondered when God would do something to calm the raging seas. It is human nature to fear death. We were created for life.

“The thief comes to steal, kill, and destroy, but Jesus came to give us abundant life.”

John 10:10 par

Human instinct will always lead us to survival. This makes the idea of dying to one’s self challenging to understand.

Dallas Willard writes in Renovation of the Heart, “This total yielding of every part of our body to God, until the very tissues and muscles that make it up are inclined toward God and godliness and are vitalized in action by the powers of heaven, breaks all conformity with worldly life in this age and transforms us into conformity with the age to come, by completing the renewal of our minds- our powers of thought and imaginations and judgment deeply rooted in our bodies.”[2] Our human inclination around the current pandemic is to panic, express anger, confusion, hopelessness, and a myriad of other emotions. It is only by the renewing of our minds and daily surrender that we can make the pilgrimage towards abundant life. 

“To be a pilgrim is to let ourselves be led by the Lord. Pilgrims are people on a way.”[3] This way leads us towards peace. There are many obstacles all of us will face as we journey towards the heart of God. Blocked by losses, sickness, poverty, and hopelessness, the way is no longer clear. Serenity becomes a poetic word that does not translate to real life. How can you find peace in a time like this? Gary Moon says, “Our only hope is to have Jesus on our insides, alive, powerful, loving and acting through our mouths and limbs.”[4] This happens through discipleship, surrender, and prayer. 

In Philippians 4:4-9 Paul exhorts us to: 

“Rejoice in the Lord always; again, I will say, rejoice. 5 Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; 6 do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. 7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

8 Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. 9 What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me—practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you.” (ESV).

Philippians 4:4-9 Paul exhorts

This is a rich passage full of many treasures. It gives us a road map for peace. When I think about the internal pilgrimage I am trekking; I can notice what triggers moments of peace vs. moments of anxiety or sadness. I know Jesus is calling me to be thankful daily, to engage in regular worship, to seek opportunities to love others, and to rest in his presence. I am also being called to put down negative news articles, the desire to debate with others, or to retreat from the present moment. Life is difficult right now. For many of us, the oceans are roaring high above our tiny vessels. 

We were wired for peace, but sometimes self-preservation intervenes. I wonder about the statement, “God is in control.” While he could take control over me, that is not how he rolls. By his mercy, we are given a choice. We can live this life by the power we possess. We can also trade in our power for the power of God. Who doesn’t want that type of upgrade? In Life Without Lack, Willard says, “…we were made to run on God.” [5] What an encouraging thought. Through trust and surrender, peace may be possible. I pray that today you will be blessed with God’s peace. 

[1] Michael Hansen, My First Spiritual Exercises: Four Guided Retreats (Notre Dame, IN: Ave Maria Press).

[2] Dallas Willard, Renovation of the Heart: Putting on the Character of Christ (Colorado Springs, CO: NavPress), 170.

[3] David Fleming, SJ, What is Ignatian Spirituality? (Chicago, IL: Loyola Press, 2008), 34. 

[4] Gary Moon, Apprenticeship with Jesus: Learning to Live Like the Master (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books),131.

[5] Dallas Willard, Life Without Lack: Living in the Fullness of Psalm 23 (Nashville, TN: Nelson Books),134.

Blog
April 9, 20200

The Way of Jesus

The beating of my heart drowns out my anxious thoughts. I remember a day last August when I asked Jesus to replace my heart with his. “Can I have your heart in exchange for mine?” was his gentle reply. In humility, I agreed. His heart is a treasure that fills my soul and with this exchange, it reminded me that I am treasured by him.

Movement is emerging out of the rhythmic strokes of his heart. I am trying to learn the steps to our dance. Desire is calling me to surrender, so Jesus can lead. Letting go of the things that hinder my ability to keep in step, is a challenge. But there is a fire growing within that compels me towards his love.

Many of us feel the weight of extra baggage right now. Threats have abounded during the COVID-19 crisis. Human instinct tells us to take more, just in case.  Anger and fear have grown like unruly ivy around generosity and gratitude. It sucks the air right out of our lungs. So many are tired and losing hope. 

As a pilgrim in training, I wonder about the things each of us needs to let go of to lighten our loads. What am I carrying that is bruising my shoulders while I trudge uphill? I have talked with a lot of different people in the past few weeks and a common burden we carry is control. There is so much we don’t have control of. We are trying to exert our power over emotions, thoughts, schedules, people, health, and a host of other things. This is exhausting work.

When I was training for the Camino, I filled up my backpack to the recommended limit. By the end of a twelve-mile walk, my shoulders ached and my bones felt bruised. A couple of days later I removed four pounds from my pack, and I hiked another 12 miles. This time without pain. The things I took out were not necessities, they were comforts. A pillow, a solar phone charger, a book, pajamas, and a few other random things. 

Today I challenged myself to let go of getting my way. I am asking myself if I can create a practice of simplicity during an exceedingly complicated space in time. Emerging out of these questions is a desire to live well. To thrive in the present moment. A spiritual guide encouraged me to find a question to ponder during my trek on the Camino. Now I ask myself, “what is the way of Jesus in my life?” 

For the moment I am abandoning my trip to Spain, but I will not abandon this question. In the movie Four Feathers, Heath Ledger’s character, Harry asks his new friend Abue, “Why are you helping me?” Abu answers, “Because God has put you in my way.” Abue lived in the desert. Each day was likely spent attending to basic human needs. When it was time for Abue and Harry to part ways, Harry asks Abue, “What will you do now?” Abue replies, “Whatever God has chosen for me.” So simple. So hard. Or perhaps, easy.

What is the way of Jesus in my life today? We must add today because tomorrow is a luxury, or perhaps a burden we cannot afford to carry. There is simplicity when we focus on this moment. I can find hope for today. 

There is a person in your path today that maybe there tomorrow, but there are others that won’t be. When you lock eyes with a stranger on a walk or at the grocery store, what is the way of Jesus at that moment? Those people are neighbors. Sometimes all I can do is offer a smile and a silent prayer. Part of finding the way of Jesus is to attune to his heart. Relinquishing our fears of not having enough and attending to the humanity that lives all around us. 

For some of you, the only humans physically in your path are in your home. What does the way of Jesus look like surrounded by a bunch of stir-crazy kids and grown-ups? What does it look like when you are the only human in your physical path? Or perhaps it is just you and a spouse or a roommate. Thankfully, there is no one answer. Every one of you is living a unique life on an exceptional path. Jesus’ heart has a different rhythm in your soul than he does in others. I imagine our dance as a slow waltz. You may see your dance with him as a tango, a swing dance, hip-hop, or salsa. Dropping the weight of unnecessary things helps us to move in step with Jesus. 

In Luke 10:38-42, Martha is frustrated that her sister Mary is not helping. She tells Jesus about it and he replies by saying, “My dear Martha, you are worried and upset over all these details! 42 There is only one thing worth being concerned about. Mary has discovered it, and it will not be taken away from her.” (NLT) We worry about so many things. Holding on to anxiety is akin to putting large rocks in your backpack. I like to look at rocks when I hike, but unless it is small and beautiful, I do not enjoy carrying rocks while I hike. It is important to recognize our anxieties, but after you have paid attention to that rock, the next step is to keep moving on your path, setting down anything that is unnecessary.

It is Holy Week. This is the week Christians remember that Jesus was arrested, beaten, tried, and crucified. This is the week we recall that the way of Jesus led him to death on a cross so we could all have life. This is the week we celebrate the miracle of resurrection and the hope of a new life. Jesus is alive. He has risen! The way of Jesus calls us to die so we may live. We relinquish our personal kingdoms and exchange them for the power of God’s Kingdom. In this, we rise with him. 

The richness of life is bubbling up in me as I compose these words. I love to write. Putting words to paper is a part of God’s way in my story. To create space for writing I surrender time relaxing, reading, watching movies, serving, and even time with friends and family. Those are not bad things. God calls me into all of those moments frequently, but I cannot carry all of them at one time. At this precise moment, I write. Soon I will grade papers and provide therapy to others. After that? “Whatever God has chosen for me.” What would God have for you?