I was four and at church camp. I couldn't understand the big words on the wall. Oh, yes, I knew what they were. But they made no sense. Something like, in Christ "Surrender = Freedom." How could that ever be? Silly adults!
As I grew up, I began to hear talk of another type of freedom. Not having to follow rules, living as one wanted. Apparently that's what it meant.
But I've found it's not. Like the angels of God now know, His law is for their well-being; I know now that rebellion is not attractive. I see in the Satan's experiment with it, a terrible result. Instead of a higher existence, a miserable, insecure life.
I'd often heard too, that the best gift you can give God is your heart. "Surrender to God everyday... moment-by-moment." I would, every morning and evening. But I wondered, how could I know? Maybe I was holding onto something. My life was no different. I didn't understand surrender.
I smile as I remember one of the times I experienced surrendering.
"Milk Tutzi, please." Mum said. I groaned silently. One or two goats are okay, but I didn't enjoy having to milk five of them.
Oh no! I could feel self rising up. I prayed under my breath. "I surrender my feelings to you Father, please deal with them. Help me be cheerful."
I went and got Toot. And I had peace and joy. Those upset feelings were gone.
Those words do make sense now. Surrender is freedom.