Surrender all.

I’ll never forget the night I learned exactly what that meant. It was 1995. I was twelve years old at a Christian summer camp in Michigan—already a believer but, admittedly, stuck in a mindset rooted in legalism, striving, and perfectionism.

I knew I couldn’t lose my salvation. In John 11:28-29 (NLT), Jesus declares: “²⁸ I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one can snatch them away from me, ²⁹ for my Father has given them to me, and he is more powerful than anyone else. No one can snatch them from the Father’s hand.”

But, I often felt like a “bad” Christian, knowing I wasn’t performing perfectly. I didn’t my Bible every day. I didn’t pray long enough. My attitude and motives weren’t always pure. I tried so hard to be the good girl, but in my heart, I didn’t feel as “good” or as spiritual as other Christians around me.

One night at camp, the speaker challenged us to surrender everything in our lives to God—or recommit to fully serving Him—an emotional heaviness came over me. Well aware of my need to give up control, I longed to make the commitment to God. My heart was desperate to go all in. That level of trust in God and relationship with Him sounded wonderful to my 12-year-old heart.

And no, I wasn’t caught up in the moment or pressured by group-think. Even as I watched other campers break down in tears and head to the front of the room, I refused to base my decision on their actions. This was between me and God.

But something held me back. The more I thought about surrendering, the more my mind overanalyzed and wrestled with the idea. And I couldn’t, in good conscious, say YES to God when I felt such inner turmoil. So, I didn’t do it. I didn’t get out of my seat. I stayed put till the service was over.

As we filed out of the chapel and walked back to our cabin, everyone was quiet till we reached the cabin door. And then, a few girls wanted to stay outside and talk. At one point, my counselor asked me how I was feeling—and I remember crying as I told her that I couldn’t bring myself to fully surrender even though I wanted to.

While I don’t know the exact words that came out of my mouth, I can imagine it being something like, “I don’t want to promise God anything when I know I can’t do it perfectly.”

How could I make such a sacred vow to God, knowing I would break it?

Surrender and Letting Go of Perfection

To me, the idea of surrendering my entire life to God felt too impossible to do every day for the rest of my life. I would surely fail. And I didn’t want to go back on my word to God, so I was at an impass.

But my counselor didn’t let me stay there long. Taking in my words, she quickly assured me that God already knew I couldn’t be perfect—and that’s why Jesus died and rose in the first place. For the first time in my life, it sunk in that God didn’t demand perfection; He wanted my heart and my commitment to keep surrendering, over and over again.

And so, that night, I surrendered. I wasn’t “re-saved” because my salvation was secure. But I like to say I rededicated my life to God and started to develop a relationship with Him. It was a turning point in my faith I’ll never forget.

If you’re reading this today and wrestling with surrender, I hope your mind is also put at ease by this truth my counselor shared with me all those years ago.

But wait. There’s more.

Letting Go of an Eating Disorder

About three years after my decision at camp, I started down a path of disordered eating that eventually led to a 10+ year eating disorder. During that time, you can bet I did not surrender everything in my life to God. In fact, the more I focused on bingeing and purging, the less I gave to God—partly because I was ashamed and partly because EDs are all-consuming.

READ MORE about my eating disorder recovery story here.

Fast forward to my recovery, and I was once again faced with that word: Surrender.

I also had to confront my perfectionist tendencies all over again, because that all-or-nothing thinking kept me from fully letting go of my ED. I wrongfully believed that the only way to recover was “cold turkey.” Baby steps didn’t count. One slip-up voided all progress. If I couldn’t recover perfectly, I was a failure. This was the mindset I had to overcome.

But God didn’t give up on me. He didn’t stop loving me. He still just wanted my heart.

Letting go of my ED was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done—harder than my 12-year-old self could have ever imagined when I first agreed to “surrender all.” It was a process. It didn’t look perfect.

Even after recovery, I wasn’t finished with surrender. Over the years, God has lovingly pointed out many other areas of my life I was still trying to control. Still today, I am a work in progress when it comes to surrender. I’m living proof that my camp counselor’s words ring true.

Surrendering to God is not a one-and-done decision. It can’t be because we are and will always be imperfect on this earth. Instead, surrender is a lifelong commitment lay down our lives again and again and again with a repentant and willing heart.

¹ And so, dear brothers and sisters, I plead with you to give your bodies to God because of all he has done for you. Let them be a living and holy sacrifice—the kind he will find acceptable. This is truly the way to worship him. ² Don’t copy the behavior and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will learn to know God’s will for you, which is good and pleasing and perfect.

Romans 12:1-2 (NLT)

Then Jesus said to his disciples, “If any of you wants to be my follower, you must give up your own way, take up your cross, and follow me.

Matthew 16:24 (NLT)