At the time of writing this, I feel unqualified to even write about surrendering. It still feels so new to me. But then again, Moses didn’t feel qualified when God called him to rescue His people, and Gideon didn’t feel qualified to lead an army. God has this beautiful pattern of using the unqualified so that His strength can shine through our weakness.
So I’m writing this anyway, and praying about whether it’s meant to be shared.
Lately, I’ve realized how distracted I’ve become. YouTube shorts became an escape for me — a way to avoid what was happening around me and even what was happening inside of me. But through all of this, I’ve started recognizing something deeper: many of my struggles have come from trying to carry everything in my own strength.
At the time of writing this, I am still learning what it means to fully surrender things to God. And I’m realizing surrender isn’t a one-time moment; it’s an everyday choice. Sometimes it’s hourly. Sometimes it’s choosing again and again to release control and trust God even when nothing around you has changed yet.
But something beautiful happens in surrender.
I can’t help but think about the joy I experienced a couple of months ago — the kind of joy that could only come from the Lord. I shared a little about it in one of my first blog posts. But recently, I experienced that same joy again through surrender.
Everything felt lighter.
My problems didn’t magically disappear, but they no longer felt like they were crushing me. The world felt softer. More beautiful. More peaceful. I felt present again.
You might be wondering, How do I experience something like that?
Friend, I can’t give you a perfect formula, but I can share some things that have helped ground me and bring me back to God.
You often hear people say: “Just surrender.” “Read your Bible.” “Pray more.” And while those things are absolutely important, sometimes people don’t talk about what surrender can actually look like in everyday life — especially for people who feel overwhelmed, distracted, anxious, emotionally exhausted, or disconnected from themselves.
For me, surrender often begins in quiet places.
Sometimes it looks like going on a hike by myself or with my kids. Sometimes it’s walking slowly around my property. Sometimes it’s sitting on the porch early in the morning with a cup of coffee, my journal beside me, listening to the birds chirp while the rain drips from the roof.
One of my favorite sounds in the world is rain.
And I started noticing something: almost every moment where I felt grounded involved creation.
Nature slows me down enough to hear God again.
God is intentional, and He created everything with intention and purpose. The birds, the trees, the rain, the wind — none of it is accidental. And maybe that’s part of why creation calms us. In a world filled with noise, notifications, pressure, and distraction, creation quietly pulls us back into the present moment.
I often come back to the scripture where Jesus says to look at the birds of the air — how they do not worry about where their next meal will come from, yet God still feeds them.
The birds are not striving.
They are not panicking about tomorrow.
They simply exist in dependence on the One who created them.
And I think there’s something we’re meant to learn from that.
Maybe grounding yourself in surrender starts smaller than we think.
Maybe it begins with sitting outside for five minutes without your phone.
Maybe it’s taking a deep breath and thanking God for the sound of rain.
Maybe it’s journaling honestly instead of trying to sound “spiritual.”
Maybe it’s admitting that you’re tired of carrying everything alone.
Maybe surrender starts by simply becoming aware of God again.
Not rushing.
Not performing.
Just being with Him.
Here are a few simple tools that have helped me become more grounded in surrender:
- Going outside without distractions and paying attention to creation
- Journaling my honest thoughts and prayers instead of filtered ones
- Sitting in silence, even if only for a few minutes
- Listening to worship music while slowing down physically
- Reading small portions of scripture slowly instead of rushing through chapters
- Taking walks and talking to God naturally, like a conversation
- Practicing gratitude for small things: birds singing, rain falling, sunlight through trees
I’m still learning. Still surrendering. Still growing.
But maybe that’s the point.
Maybe surrender was never meant to make us perfect overnight. Maybe it’s meant to draw us closer to the heart of God one small act of trust at a time.
And if you’re in a season where you feel overwhelmed, distracted, exhausted, or uncertain, I just want you to know this:
God is not asking you to have it all figured out before coming to Him.
He’s simply asking you to come.
