Serenity Through Surrender

I have been sitting here staring at a blank screen, and my cat is sleeping next to me. She's twisted into an impossible shape for sleep, and yet she does, contentedly.  

The only thing is, she's not really sleeping soundly; she rarely does.  This cat is always on alert.  If I reached out to pet her, she would spring up in an instant, and most likely relocate.  I can count on one hand the times I've seen her actually sleep deeply. 

I know something about being on alert and in control, like my cat.  I prefer life that way, truth be told.  It's easier to keep yourself safe when you can anticipate what comes next or prepare for any surprises.  

The problem is, when we live like this, our lives become constricted, and we also become very weary.  And the truth is, we can't anticipate much of anything no matter how hard we try.  Surprises (both good and bad) come at us constantly. 

But I am beginning to learn that there is a quiet strength that comes not from control, but from surrender. 

In a world filled with noise, demands, and the unpredictable, we often cling tightly to our plans, our expectations, and our fears—hoping that if we hold on hard enough, we’ll find peace. But peace does not come from gripping tightly; it comes from opening wide.

Jack Kornfield offers a profound image of this truth:

“If you put a spoonful of salt
in a cup of water
it tastes very salty.
If you put a spoonful of salt
in a lake of fresh water
the taste is still pure and clear.

Peace comes when our hearts are
open like the sky,
vast as the ocean.”

Life inevitably drops “salt” into our hearts—a harsh word, a broken dream, a fear, a loss. If our hearts are small and closed, that salt overwhelms us.

 But when our hearts are expansive, open to God and to the world around us, the bitterness dissolves into something greater. We are not consumed by our circumstances because we have made space within us for something more powerful than trouble—God’s peace.

The Apostle Paul writes, “And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:7, NRSV). 

This peace is not the result of everything going right. It’s the fruit of letting go—of trusting that God is God and we are not. It comes when we cease striving to control what is beyond our reach and instead open ourselves to God’s presence in every moment, every breath.

Openness is not passivity; it is spiritual courage. It is saying, “I will not let the pain of life shrink my soul. I will make room for God’s grace.” It is choosing to be a lake, not a cup.

Today, whatever you carry—anxiety, frustration, grief, disappointment—don’t try to hold it all in a tight little cup. Surrender it. Expand your heart through prayer, through silence, through simply sitting in nature or being present with someone else’s pain. Trust that God’s Spirit, like fresh water, will meet you there and bring clarity.

Let your spirit become wider and less constricted. Make space for peace. Let it wash over you, and then carry it gently into the world. Peace is not the absence of difficulty, but the presence of God in the vast openness of a surrendered soul.

Prayer:
God of peace and presence,
Help me to open my heart wide to You.
Teach me to let go of what I cannot control,
and to trust that Your Spirit will meet me in the space I make.
Make my soul like a lake—deep, still, and clear—
so that even in the salt of sorrow or fear,
I may taste only Your goodness.
Amen.