Surrendering for peace

I don't know a lot about war, but I've read enough history (and fantasy novels) to know that surrenders usually occur to prevent further fighting and bloodshed. To put it in oversimplified terms, all you have to do is surrender to the guy with more power and the turmoil will end.

Surrendering isn't synonymous with giving up, however. Merriam-Webster's defines surrender as "to yield to the power, control, or possession of another upon compulsion or demand." Surrender involves more than just letting go; it involves an actual transfer of control.

There are risks that come with surrendering, of course. If you're surrendering to someone/something corrupt, it'll save you from one bad situation only to put you in a different bad situation. If you surrender too often, you can't be counted on to stand for anything.

Sometimes, though (usually when you're least prepared for it), surrendering is not just the only sane course of action, it's the only course of action. You've made a plan, executed that plan, made adjustments along the way, and still you feel like you're walking through a battlefield of doubts, conflicting fantasies, and unfulfilled personal miracles. Finally, you throw your hands in the air and say, "All right, God, you win! I'll keep blindly driving the car as long as you don't let me fall off a cliff."

I expected darkness and confusion when I hit this point last week. To my surprise, I got peace instead, a peace more complete than I've felt in a very long time.

For God is not the author of confusion, but of peace.

—1 Corinthians 14:33

Surrendering to the one who is holding all the cards all the time, who knows where you're going and who you're supposed to be, is never a risk. I expect this to be one of those lessons I'll have to learn over and over again, but that's really okay—learning that the miracles God has in store for me are so much better than the ones I can dream up is kind of a pleasant cycle to go through, especially when the end of the cycle is peace.