Finding Strength in Surrender

In my junior year of college, I attended a Bible study hosted by my pastor’s wife, Ms. Carla Sibley. She had college girls in her home once a week for several years. Being a part of this group was a defining decision of my life. The lessons Ms. Carla taught me are many, and because our personalities and temperaments are similar, I easily learned from her deep well of wisdom. 

Ms. Carla’s wisdom dripped from her lips like honey from a honeycomb, and there are two lessons I still carry with me. On one occasion, she described the responsibilities of keeping a home and caring for her five children. She looked at a group of about 30 college girls, longing for marriage, and recounted the hard days, but then said with a smile, “I look around some days, and I realize, I’m living my dream.” As a young college girl, I had yet to be in a serious relationship, and I idolized marriage and motherhood. When Ms. Carla said she was living her dream, I believed her.

Nearly 10 years after gleaning Ms. Carla’s wisdom, my husband and I attempted to conceive a child. It was not an easy road—fibroids and endometriosis do not make for a hospitable womb. But the Lord, in His kindness, allowed me to conceive not one, but two miracle babies. He didn’t stop there, either. He also gave me a dream teenage daughter through foster care at age 30—how’s that for a sense of humor?

Because the Lord allowed me to enter motherhood in an unorthodox way, I (wrongly) assumed I would be a certain type of mother. You know, the kind who’s like Mary Poppins all the time—full of energy and grace. Instead, motherhood exposed all my weaknesses, insecurities, and sins. Most unpleasantly, I might add. 

While 2020-2021 was a difficult time for the entire world as we walked through global suffering, our family unit also knew personal suffering. We found ourselves in deep pain as we navigated subsequent trials over a few short months. I told a friend it was like being in a boxing ring and getting hit repeatedly, never being able to catch your breath or get ahead of the opponent. The trials and pain of 2021 ended with a move to my hometown, where my parents still reside. While we were grateful for a fresh start, the heartache of the past year came rushing in like a hurricane. My tears were endless, and my heart hurt. 

During this season, I had a two-and-a-half-year-old, a two-month-old, and an eighteen-year-old at home, and somehow we needed to fill the days. I was tired, sad, and lonely. But as the months went on and the sadness began to subside, I realized I was full of anger. An unknown source once said, “I sat with my anger long enough until she told me her real name was grief.” Nearly a year after our big move, my anger began to scare me. I would erupt at my children with outbursts of yelling and adult temper tantrums when things felt too burdensome. I felt out of control, ashamed, and alone. 

Each time I erupted with my children, I confessed to my husband, who always encouraged me to remember I am only human and my children know I love them. I also confided in a couple of close friends who were also in the throes of mothering young children. We committed to pray for one another and check in with each other. But the shame lingered on until the Lord allowed me to be in a mentoring group through my church. It had been nearly 15 years since I sat at Ms. Carla’s feet, soaking up her wisdom. And even though I still periodically checked in with her, I knew I needed mentorship in the flesh. 

As a member of this group, I had the opportunity to attend a retreat with my fellow group members and share my story and struggles. I confessed to them my penchant for anger and impatience, expressing the shame and regret I often felt because I couldn’t be the mom I envisioned. These women, most of them several decades older with grandchildren and even great-grandchildren, surrounded me with love, encouragement, and fervent prayers rooted in Scripture. They didn’t excuse my actions, nor did they condemn me. I breathed a deep breath and felt safe, seen, and known. 

A few months later, midway through the mentoring program, I realized I had been losing it with the kids less and less. I began to truly grasp what Ms. Carla said all those years ago in her living room—I am living my dream.

As a wife and mother to my children, I have the immense privilege of laying my life down each day to serve and cultivate a home founded on grace, love, and truth. It starts with recognizing I am not perfect, and I never will be. But instead of using my willpower through behavior modification to better myself, I depend on the power of the Holy Spirit within and the prayers of the saints.

As I began to learn from these incredible women, I realized what a treasured gift the Lord gave me in this group. The opportunity to walk with these faithful saints fortified me for my current season as a young wife and mom. In due time, the Holy Spirit brought to mind the second thing Ms. Carla taught me. She recommends reading Christian biographies. She posits that reading Christian biographies increases our gratitude and awareness of God’s kindness to us. We can learn from the courage and bravery of those who have gone before us and been found faithful to Christ, even in the deepest valleys. The first biography I chose to read was The Hiding Place, by Corrie ten Boom. I love to read historical fiction, and this book reads like a novel. It was difficult to believe everything I read in those pages was real. Corrie and her family were sentenced to live in a work camp during WWII for hiding Jews in their apartment. They refused to back down from ensuring the gospel of Jesus Christ continued to go forward. The family worked tirelessly and sacrificially to save the lives of innocent Jews the Lord brought to them. While in prison, they hosted Bible studies and continued winning souls to Christ. Their fortitude inspired me to consider the myriad opportunities I’m offered each day to be grateful and courageous for Christ, even as a stay-at-home mom. 

After the trials of 2020-2021, my heart felt mournful, weary, and fragile. I built walls around it to protect myself from the pain of being hurt again, but this attempt was unsuccessful. The pain needed release and I (wrongly) expressed it through anger at my children and husband. But God, in His great grace, gave me Ms. Carla’s words from long ago, a mentoring group, and Corrie ten Boom to help me understand I was not alone. The community of the saints, those past and present, personal and afar, is what transformed the ministry of my marriage and motherhood. In The Hiding Place, Corrie writes,

“Do you know what hurts so very much? It’s love. Love is the strongest force in the world, and when it is blocked that means pain. There are two things we can do when this happens. We can kill that love so that it stops hurting. But then of course part of us dies, too. Or we can ask God to open up another route for that love to travel.” [1]

Blocking Christ’s love from penetrating the deepest parts of me because I was afraid of being hurt again was not an option. Neither did I desire my family to know a wife and mother who resented them. If I was going to walk in fortitude, I had to open my heart to the only One who could heal it—my Heavenly Father. 

I still get angry sometimes—more often than I would like. I’m a passionate person with high expectations and a low tolerance for disappointment. But I’m learning fortitude isn’t found in sheer willpower. It’s found through surrender and allowing yourself to be malleable clay formed by the Potter. He is the One who wants to make you usable for His kingdom. Yet He also bends low to listen to your prayers and dry your tears. And while it hurts to the bones, the place of surrender is where I want to be. Because when it hurts, I can remember my direct access to heaven lies within me, waiting to be ignited and released for the glory of God and the good of others. 

Endnote:

[1] Corrie ten Boom, The Hiding Place (Chosen Books: 1971).

The featured image, “Oldfall,” is courtesy of Ariel Lovewell and is used with her kind permission for Cultivating.

Jessica Mathisen

Jessica Mathisen lives just outside of Atlanta, Georgia with her husband and three kids (two through biology and one through adoption). She is a former elementary school teacher and a lover of people. As a writer, speaker, podcaster, and coach, her passion is to communicate God’s love to others through words and relationships. Her most favorite things are hanging with her family, eating chips and salsa, and reading good books. You can learn more about her at www.jessicanmathisen.com, read her latest book, An Overwhelming Hope, listen to her podcast, The Fullness of Joy, and follow her on Instagram.

www.jessicanmathisen.com