Surrender

Not my will, but yours be done, Lord.

I have made my plans, but if it be to your glory, change them, Lord.

I have set my foot to path, but if you place a fork in the road to redirect my steps, I shall follow where you lead, Lord.

My life is yours, do with me what you will, Lord.

I am done fighting the tides that you raise, Lord.

I am done jumping the waves meant to wash over me, Lord.

I am done turning from the challenges you desire me to face, Lord.

I am done running from you, Lord. My life is yours, do with me what you will.

I trust myself into your perfect will, so again I say, not my will, but yours be done.

I release every dream, every hope, every prayer, not according to your will, change my heart, open my eyes, so I may rest in your perfect will as I walk in the unknown.

I know not where I am going. I know not what lies ahead of me, but I know who goes before me, so again I say, not my will, but yours, Lord.

May your perfect works be done through me; I am a mere vessel to perform your perfect deeds on this earth, so I bid Thee to do with me as you will. I am done fighting, I’ll flow with the river and see you over Jordan.

I commend myself into your hands, into your care, Lord, so send the storms, I’ll weather them with grace and speak the name of Jesus and trust peace will manifest on the inside of me.

For years, I thought it was the world I was fighting, but it was the world inside of me that I had been toiling with relentlessly, pushing toward a mark you never set for me, reaching for a life you never destined for me, striving toward a better that you never promised me, looking to a future you never saw for me.

God, I cry out publicly in defeat, sent Jesus to Calvary not only for my salvation but to slay me day after day until I fall before your feet in perfect submission, and confess all belongs to you, your ways are perfect, so be it not me to cry out against Thee when life unfolds not according to my plan, because your ways are higher than my ways, and your thoughts are not my thoughts, you see so much further into the future, and your depth of love exceeds me alone and covers the entire galaxy and all that rests within its orbit, so while I had my plans you had a plan for all of heaven and what sits below.

Just as a potter lays hands to clay, take me, Lord, shape me, mould me, carve out every bit of me that does not reflect your creative vision, put me in the fire to solidify your impressions, paint me, leave me plain, throw me against the wall, collect all my broken pieces, and drip gold from your fingertips and repair me into the most beautiful kintsugi in your eyes, and whether when you’re done you place me in the museum for all to marvel, or place me in your home to gaze upon whenever you pass by, I shall be content. For I am your great work.

So again, I profess, Lord, not my will, but yours be done.

Amen.