(Source: Dollar Photo Club)

(Source: Dollar Photo Club)

Yesterday was the first day in the past two weeks that I did not cry on the way home from work. I wish I could say I was exaggerating for dramatic affect, but that would be a lie.

Just like the lies I’ve told in the past few weeks to everyone (minus a few close friends) who has asked the casual, “How are you?”

I feel like the baby elephants that I love watching on YouTube are just sitting on my heart crushing it beyond repair, and I might be dehydrated because I don’t think I’ve ever had a time in my life when I’ve cried this much. I’m actually holding back the tears now, so I don’t make this conversation any more awkward. It would be great if you could just move along…you didn’t want the real answer to that question anyways…and I need a minute to plaster my smile back on and put up my brave front. I hope my voice doesn’t crack during the next conversation I have to have with people.

“I’m fine.”

Just like the lies I’ve carefully crafted and displayed all over my Instagram account to make myself and everyone else believe I’m doing great.

But I’m not doing great. These past six months have been one struggle after the other culminating in the past few weeks of daily coming to God with tears streaming down my face. Tears brought on not necessarily by the difficult circumstances I’m facing, but because these circumstances have led me to a place where I know I must finally stop arguing with God and surrender my most precious dreams to Him.

The constant refrain of my prayers have been, “But Daddy, my heart hurts. It hurts so badly. Do you see my pain? Do you know how hard it will be for me to let go of this dream? It means so much to me.”

“I don’t want to give it to You, Father, because what if You don’t give it back? It’s a beautiful dream and not sinful…except for the fact that lately it has captivated my heart in a way that only You should. But I know you’re good.”

Slowly I begin to loosen the death grip I’ve had on my dream—almost as if it was a lovely bouquet of roses.

God patiently listened to all my prayers, and began to soften my stubborn heart.

He sees me. He sees my hurt, and He does know how hard it will be for me to let go.

Slowly I begin to loosen the death grip I’ve had on my dream—almost as if it was a lovely bouquet of roses.

As I let go of the roses and let them fall to Jesus’ feet, I realize that I had been holding onto them so tightly that the thorns had dug into my hands.

While I only saw the beauty of the roses, God saw the destruction that even beautiful things can have on a heart that is more enamored with the gift than with the Giver.

Finally God brought me to the place where I was able to let go, and in that moment, He lifted the weight of what felt like a baby elephant that had been sitting on my chest for the past six months.

And life is all blue skies and happy days again…haha. Nope.

The crushing weight is gone, but my heart still hurts from being under that weight for so long.

Surrender is not a one time, big spiritual moment thing even though sometimes those moments can be the catalyst for it. Surrender is a daily, moment by moment thing. And God is faithful to give us the grace and strength we need to do all He asks of us.

Surrender is a daily, moment by moment thing.

I’ve heard stories about surrender that go like this: Person gives up precious dream. God eventually gives it back only it’s bigger and better than they could have possible imagined.

While those stories are beautiful and remind me that I serve a good God, I cannot put my hope in them because it leaves me right back where I started—focusing on the gifts and not the Giver.

I don’t know if God will ever give me back that dream, and that’s ok. I do know He is good, and He will give me more of Himself which is what my heart really needs.

What is God asking you to surrender? I dare you to let go. I know it won’t be easy, but it will be worth it because God is faithful and worth more than anything we try to hold onto.

This originally appeared on Sarah Stinson’s blog, with my whole heart. Republished with permission.