Lessons from Caregiving, #19: Surrendering by Faith

(This post is part of a series. For previous posts in the series please see #1, #2., #3, #4, #5, #6, #7, #8, #9, #10, #11, #12, #13, #14, #15, #16, #17, #18)

I suppose somewhere out there is a Christian for whom "I surrender all" is a statement of fact. For the rest of us, though, it's a prayer of faith. And I'm learning to be okay with that.

I used to think of "faith" as something we had to muster up and try hard not to let slip away. Phrases like "she never complains" or "all I ever hear from her is praise" reaffirmed this perception. When I entered this caregiving journey and began walking through ambiguous grief, I assumed that was my goal. 

Then, I met Job. 

Oh, I thought I knew him. I knew that he praised God when he lost all his children and possessions. I knew he had enviable patience. I knew he would trust God through his trial even if it meant death. I'd been there, read the book, got the T-shirt. 

But then I came across Job again, this time from the perspective of someone walking through my own wrecking season. I walked through my own season of words meant for the wind. I wasn't always positive and didn't just talk about Scripture. I still don't. 

I began to see in Job a John 6:68 type of faith - he didn't know what was happening, he didn't understand it all, but he had an unshakeable faith that there was nowhere else to turn. So he processed his pain, his anger, his resentment - every feeling imaginable - within the context of that relationship. His religious friends who lacked that relationship watched on in confusion, but Job held firm.

I admire those with constant, unassailable trust. But Job teaches me that I can struggle through suffering and end up in a place of deeper trust. That I can hold on to the basics of who God is, knowing my Redeemer lives, and still have doubts and wrestling matches with my Maker. 

There is a need for a witness of trust and hope, for posting Scripture and statements of faith. But I think there is also a need for the witness of holding on to Jesus when all you can see is darkness.There is a time for telling of lessons learned, and there is a time for processing lessons still in progress. 

I'm waiting for the day that I can truly say "I surrender all". Until then, I'll keep singing those words by faith, trusting that He is holding on to me.