I Surrender All

I knew the words to the old hymn. I’d sang it 100 times. My late wife Joey and I even won a Grammy award for singing it on an album we made in 2016. But singing the words to “I Surrender All” and actually living them out are two completely different things.

It was still fairly early in the beginning of my journey to live for God, when I asked Him to reveal to me what — if anything, I have been withholding from Him. I’m not sure what answer I thought I’d get, or how long I thought it might take to get one, but His response was almost immediate.

We were going to a make-shift church service that was happening in the big red barn at our farm. Some neighbors and family had been gathering on Sundays to watch and listen to a live-stream from World Outreach, a mega church in middle Tennessee an hour or so down the road.

There were only a dozen or so people there, and when I walked in with Rebecca and Indiana, the music had already started on the big screen. I looked for our usual seats in the back, but they were filled, and also the next row. The only thing open was at the front. And my first thought was, “I’m not a front row kind of guy”, and then I felt a gentle hand upon me, and a quiet voice say, “…not even for Me?”

I squirmed a bit and then found us a spot in the front. A few moments later the worship leader on the screen told everyone in the congregation to rise up out of their seats for the next song.

I didn’t stand up, and I wasn’t about to.

I wasn’t in their sanctuary. I was in my barn and this wasn’t even a real church service. My pride bowed up, even though the folks around me, including my soon-to-be wife and daughter stood up and began singing without giving it a second thought. And then there was that voice again, “…you won't stand up, even for Me”

Okay, okay. So I stood up and sang along.

And then the guy on the microphone on the TV said, let’s all raise our hands in the air while we worship, and that — That! was going too far. I’m definitely not the pentecostal, whooping and hollering, hand-raising kind of Christian, I’m more of the…

And then I heard it again, “…I died for you, and you won’t raise up your hands for Me?”

I’d like to tell you that my hands shot in the air. But they didn’t. I would keep my hands to myself most of the Summer and Fall that followed. Once in a while, occasionally lifting one a bit, maybe even both of them -- testing the waters. Then quickly bringing them back down again. Hoping that no one noticed.

In time, I would make myself raise my hands in some of the worship services we attended. No so much because I felt it, but mostly because I felt like I should. That I should be willing to raise my hands, even if I didn’t want to.

And so I did. And after a while, it got a little bit easier, but not much. I remember a time a good while later, when we were sitting on our couch at the farmhouse with another couple from our church, who I’m sure noticed how difficult it was for me (and honestly for Rebecca too at the time) to raise our hands in the air in the worship we’d all just been to.

I don’t remember what exactly we were talking about, but I do remember him saying, “Do you know what the universal sign of surrender is?”.

Now I’m a big history buff and so I really thought about it, but didn’t know what the answer was.

“I don’t know — what?”

He raised his hands in the air.

It almost took my breath away.

My friend didn’t have to say anything else, I understood what my problem was, and it had nothing to do with my hands.

It was my heart.

I was still checking things off my ‘Surrender’d list’, and it had been going pretty well.

Give up alcohol… check. Your love for old cars…. check. Your need to dress and look and be different… check. And a dozen other pride and ego-driven things that God had been convicted me to come to terms with (another story I’ll share sometime soon).

But God isn’t look for a completed checklist. He’s looking for completely surrendered heart and life.

Sitting on that couch, I knew exactly why it was so hard for me. I had no problem surrendering things — stuff. Behaviors. Plans, even my Gifts. But surrendering All?… that was a step I had yet to take.

That night as I lay in bed, I prayed for forgiveness and I raised up my heart and asked God to please take it, all of it. And to give me a new one. One that could care less what people think. What I think. One that only cares and thinks about Him and how I can get closer and experience more of His grace.

I’ve never really had a problem putting my hands in the air since then. Most Sunday mornings or in small group meetings when we’re singing, both Rebecca and I will barely make it into the first chorus of the first song before both of our hands are in the air.

Yes, we’re worshiping. And we feel it deeply. But it’s more than that. Every Sunday and every service and every song is another opportunity to look up to Heaven and say “Lord, I surrender all. I surrender everything I have, everything I am, and everything I’m ever going to be!”

Giving all to God is the least I can do for all that He’s done for me.

Do you have a hard time raising your hands in worship? Have you bought the lie that “It’s just not your style” or “You’re just an introvert” or the dozens of other excuses we tell ourselves?

Perhaps it’s because you have more to surrender?

I came to understand that even though they seem like they’re along way from each other… my hands were intricately connected to my heart.

Whether we realize it or not, our pride and our ego has a death grip on our hands. And also on our feet. They not only keep us from raising our hands in worship, they keep us from taking the bold steps of faith that God is calling each of us to take.

We don’t want to let go. We desperately need to remain in control at all times. Subconsciously we’re afraid that if we let ourselves go, something bad might happen. In many ways, our lack of surrender is just self preservation. What if God wrecks our life? What will happen?

But in the book of Matthew, Christ said, “Whoever loses their life for My sake will find it”. And I’m here to tell you that that voice in your head telling you not to step out on faith is just the devil holding your captive. He knows how free you’re going to be when you give God your hands and your feet — you might give him your heart, and then your life. And then, well… he would lose his grip on you. And he will do anything to keep you riding the fence - half way on the path to God, but still within his reach.

He is the one who binds our hands, and our hearts. Because he knows when we give Christ everything and come into the presence of God, Satan is done for.

Don’t be afraid. Ask God what it is that you’re still withholding from him? Is it your hands? Your marriage? Your secret sin? Your job? Your kids? Your past, or your future? If you’re like me, it’s a hundred things. But when you look a little closer and get a little more honest, it’s only one.

You have to put your hands in the air and surrender to Him. Completely.

Once you do that, ALL the rest will follow.

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