Freedom Begins With Surrender
Three hundred words or so each day. That’s what I’ve been encouraged to write.
There’s a fear that if I sit down at the keyboard, the words won’t come. So I don’t sit down at the keyboard. And then the words don’t come.
I’m sitting down today.
Just where do you begin when writing a testimony?
Do you begin at birth? The moment I said, “I do?”
The moment I became free?
It was the last thing I ever wanted, to end up in a psychological straitjacket of sorts. The years following my physical freedom were heartbreaking as I learned the depths of my brokenness.
When I left the cult, I was not free.
Perpetual brain fog kept me from considering, much less comprehending the simplest of scriptures. I was completely emotionless without a fleeting sweep of sentiment in my heart.
At the same time, I wanted to understand the Bible. And I certainly wanted to be human.
Time alone doesn’t heal all wounds, but me? A top-10 high school graduate, doctorate conferred at age 26, national and world champion baton twirler who plays flute and twirls it too? Surely I could fix this.
Brokenness led me to humility.
The moment I realized I did not have the answers was the moment I could begin listening to the one who does.
As I share my story with others, I find it’s not so different after all.
The pastor at my church said it this way as he gave his own testimony recently:
Until I was willing to surrender my independence and pride, thinking I could do life my own way and in my own power, I could never experience the fullness of God’s love that he had for me and the life God wanted for me.
One of the most beautiful scenes in my life was setting aside stacks of library books promising help for psychological trauma and with gentle tears streaming down my face, surrendering.
God, help me understand this book.
Help me understand who Jesus really is.