I Surrender

I am currently reading John Ortberg’s new book Steps: A Guide to Transforming Your Life When Willpower Isn’t Enough. It is largely based on the 12 steps commonly associated with Alcoholics Anonymous and other recovery groups. As has often been noted, there tends to be more honesty and acceptance among the AA members that meet in the church basement than there is in the congregation that meets upstairs in the sanctuary. The church could learn from their example.

In Christian traditions we often think of surrender as something we do when we first come to salvation, and we forget that it is a daily choice to surrender to God. Jesus said, “If anyone would come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow Me” (Luke 9:23).

Martin Luther wrote that “the entire life of believers should be repentance,” not just repenting of known sins, but of constantly turning away from our self-sufficiency and trusting in Christ’s strength, grace, and mercy for all aspects of life. We are far more needy than we are often willing to admit. It is pride, and its flip side of shame, that keeps us from being honest about our many weaknesses. We think we need to be stronger than we are, so we put on our best mask before we leave the house. We keep trying to push through instead of surrendering to the fact that we can’t do anything apart from Christ. Ortberg comments:

“For most of my life I believed, without ever reflecting on it much, that I could mostly do what needs to be done... And I’ve come to realize I can’t... I can’t heal those closest to me. I can’t fix my heart. I can’t control how people think of me. I can’t make my fear go away. I can’t make my sadness go away. I can’t fix my shame or my envy or my anger. I can’t stop my awful dread of what might happen in the future... I don’t mean that I used to not be able to do those things, but now I’m strong and all is okay, and I will share with you the secret of how I did it. I mean that I cannot do it. Now. I live in that pain from one day to the next. I will never know a daily peace in my life apart from the pain that is a daily piece of my life” (“Step 1A”).

The long version of the Serenity Prayer says:

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time,
enjoying one moment at a time,
accepting hardships as the pathway to peace,
taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it,
trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His will—
that I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
forever in the next.

I don’t think most of us want to accept that hardships are the pathway to peace. But it is through hardship that we realize how dependent we are on God. We’d rather pursue fleeting happiness in this life by relying on our own ingenuity or looking for ways to numb the pain. Self-reliance cannot bring true peace because we’ll constantly be wondering whether we have the resources to make it through the next hardship. Ortberg says.

“I am prone to believe that my superior ability to think things through can handle any problem. But a common line at AA meetings is ‘Remember, your best thinking got you here’” (“Step 1C”).

I’m coming to realize (at least sometimes) how little is actually under my control. That can create anxiety, but it can also spur me to pray “OK, God, I know I can’t change this, so help me to trust that You actually are the One in control.” In my prayer journal, there is a recurring refrain of “help me remember” and “help me to trust.”

Jesus said it clearly, “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in Me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing” (John 15:5). Not just “apart from Me you can only do so much,” but “you can do nothing!” Maybe over time we’ll remember to start each day by surrendering our lofty, self-sufficient dreams for life and determine to walk with Jesus in the good works that He has already prepared for us (Eph. 2:10), honestly embracing our weaknesses and limitations for the glory of God.

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See also “Luther’s First Thesis and Last Words.”

© 2025 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Not Mr. Fix-It

A friend recommended that I read the book When God Doesn’t Fix It, by Laura Story. Although I was very familiar with her song “Blessings” and others, I didn’t know anything about her background. I won’t go into details here because I’d rather recommend that you read her book. She is certainly qualified to respond to the question “What do you do when God doesn’t fix the overwhelming circumstances of life?” Sometimes living is a daily chore, and walking by faith is more like crawling in the dark. But God is there with us too. The following are just a few of the highlights I made in the book:

“[While] we’re focused on the unhealed sickness, hurt, and pain in our lives, God is focused on a bigger picture. Something else is broken, and it has eternal consequences if it doesn’t get fixed” (ch 3).

“We ask God why, believing the answer will provide us with some kind of deep soul satisfaction. But too often, we don’t get the answer we want. I don’t think that means we should give up asking questions; we just need to understand their role in our brokenness. Questions can be a great help in mourning our loss, communicating our frustration, and expressing our feelings. We belong to an almighty, transcendent, yet approachable God who loves hearing our questions. Our questions are important to him, and the Scriptures are full of hurting people asking questions” (ch 10).

“The answer to why doesn’t help us heal. But knowing that God’s glory can be displayed, even in the brokenness of our lives, gives us hope despite our circumstances. I promise you will find more purpose and joy in your life if you set aside the why and begin to ask how. How does my story fit into God’s greater story of redemption? ...
How might God use your current trial to glorify himself?
How might God use your weakness, infirmity, or disability to display his power?
How might God use your hard circumstances to show you something about yourself?
How might God use your pain for a purpose? How might God make this mess into a message?
How might God use your current chaos to make you into a man or woman who walks by faith, not by sight?
How might God use your situation to show you that true peace is found only in him?” (ch 10).

“God is the hero of the broken story. That’s why he wants you to share your highs and lows too—it’s a part of his story, and it can be used to bring others closer to him” (ch 14).

“What if telling your story at church would not only be a blessing in disguise for you, but a lifeline to someone who needed to hear God’s hope and truth? What if sharing your trials through a blog post of a Facebook status encourages others who are going through their own trials? What if seeing how you’ve turned to God helps someone else know him?” (ch 17).

“Joy doesn’t come from our circumstances; it comes from our God. And since God is with us during our trials, it is possible to have joy even in our trials” (ch 19).

God may not fix things to our preferred standards, but His construction plans are much more detailed than our own and will one day be completed and perfect.

“For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with human hands, eternal in the heavens” (2 Cor. 5:1).

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© 2025 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV. Cover photo courtesy of Amazon.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Rooted

The world says fly, be free,

  throw off all constraints.

    There are no rules, no laws,

      do what you please.

But when trouble comes

  we want roots, connections,

    something to keep us grounded

      to hold us together.

We can’t have both, or can we?

  Trees don’t fly, birds don’t

    grow flowers, but the

      Heavenly Father cares for both.

Rooted in His love we can

  soar to new heights.

    Under His wings we find

      shelter in the storm

Connected to His Body there is

  belonging, the community

    of the diverse, where each

      can be uniquely whole.

It is not conformity

  that binds us together,

    not law that controls

      or constrains us.

It is the grace and mercy

  of the One who loved us and

    thus made us lovable

      and taught us to love.

Rooted in Him we are

  eternally secure, able

    to fly where He leads

      just as He planned all along.

Psalm 1:3:

“He is like a tree

planted by streams of water

that yields its fruit in its season,

and its leaf does not wither.

In all that he does, he prospers.”

(Sparked by Malcolm Guite’s article in Christianity Today “Something Holy Shines”)

© 2025 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Getting in Shape

I was feeling inadequate, unable to live up to the expectations of others, wondering if God too might be expecting more than I feel willing or able to do. I found myself drawn to Psalm 139 and the reminders that “You knitted me together in my mother’s womb” (v. 13) and “My frame was not hidden from You, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth” (15). In between is the reassurance, “Wonderful are Your works!” (14). What God has made is well thought out and right for His purposes.

As I moved on to verse 16, I discovered something I hadn’t seen before. The ESV states, “Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in Your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.” Other translations add some flavor: “all the days ordained for me were written in Your book” (NIV), “And in Your book they were all written, the days fashioned for me” (NKJV), or “even the days that were fashioned” (JPS). Do you see what I see? The days that were formed or fashioned for me were created with just as much careful deliberation by God as the way He formed me in the womb. Biblehub notes, “The Hebrew verb ‘yatsar’ primarily means to form or fashion, often used in the context of creating or shaping something with intention and purpose. It conveys the idea of a potter shaping clay, highlighting the skill and care involved in the creative process.” It’s the same word used in Isaiah 43:1, “But now thus says the Lord, He who created you, O Jacob, He who formed you, O Israel...”

God forms us for our day, and He forms our days for us. Therefore we can be assured that they fit us. Sure, there are added challenges of living in a world marred by sin, but God’s purposes still prevail. Job proclaimed, “I know that You can do all things, and that no purpose of Yours can be thwarted” (Job 42:2). David said, “I cry out to God Most High, to God who fulfills His purpose for me” (Ps. 57:2).

There can be a tendency, even within the church, to think that we’re all supposed to fit some stereotype of gifts, abilities, relationships, and appearance. But “If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell?” (1 Cor. 12:17). We aren’t all expected to do the same things in the same way, because God uniquely fashioned each of us on purpose and for His purposes. My life doesn’t have to look like someone else’s, and my ministry within the Body of Christ doesn’t have to fit someone else’s mold. It just needs to be what God has designed for me.

“But who are you, O man, to answer back to God? Will what is molded say to its molder, ‘Why have you made me like this?’” (Rom. 9:20). Some vessels are more eye-catching than others, but all are necessary. Sometimes I wonder why God made me as He did, but Scripture reminds me that His purposes are always good and I can rest in the mold He has formed for my days.

“But now, O Lord, You are our Father; we are the clay, and You are our potter; we are all the work of Your hand” (Isaiah 6748).

© 2025 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Bring It All

I believe a lot of Christians approach faith as an intellectual exercise. This may be particularly true of those in Reformed traditions where having correct theology and being able to defend our beliefs has been elevated to the capstone of life. Seminaries often feed into this perception and can lead pastors to intellectualize their preaching and teaching. Certainly we want pastors who can study and faithfully interpret Scripture, but correct theology is not necessarily life-transforming.

I know I have fallen into this trap quite often. Some of us have personality traits and family origins that are more prone to this. I value and pursue knowledge of many different subjects, Scripture included. At the same time, a lot of the Christian authors I’ve read have implied that emotions are meant to be ignored. “Just preach the truth to yourself and your emotions will fall into line.” There may be a kernel of truth to that, but I’ve rarely found it to be that clear cut. Part of the difficulty comes from not knowing what I’m feeling or why I feel that way to begin with. It’s hard to come up with relevant biblical truth if I don’t know what wounds or misconceptions need to be addressed. I’ve slowly learned that simply trying to suppress the troubling thoughts or feelings doesn’t really solve anything. They still live to fight another day. “Denying yourself” doesn’t mean ignoring what’s going on inside.

Jesus invited us, “Come to Me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matt. 11:28). But if we are trying to deny our burdens, we may not even realize that we are in need of rest. It was prophesied that Jesus would be “a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief… Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows” (Is. 53:3-4). He never said “What you are feeling is irrelevant, just trust Me,” but He did remind the disciples that suffering would not last forever.

Even the great apostle Paul wrote at different times, “I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart” (Rom. 9:1), and “we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself” (2 Cor. 1:8). He didn’t downplay his difficulties, and he didn’t ask the churches to pray that he wouldn’t feel this way. He was able to say instead, “we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us” (Rom. 5:3-5). He acknowledged the pain while still clinging to God in faith.

How then does this impact our approach to faith? First, we need to remember that we can bring our true selves to God. He doesn’t expect us to sanitize our thoughts and come with heads held high and smiles on our faces. He knows where we struggle even better than we know ourselves. We can drag our broken bodies and wounded hearts to Him at any and all times.

Second and very practically, rather than pursuing prayer and Bible reading as an academic exercise, sometimes (or perhaps often) we can take time to examine our hearts and see what things are currently causing anxiety, sorrow, anger, and uncertainty. Then we can go to God with whatever our greatest concerns are right now. I think we often miss out on experiencing God’s love and grace because we don’t actually take all our burdens to Him.

The practice of self-examination goes back many centuries, and is not some kind of new age mysticism. Scripture tells us to examine ourselves preceding communion (1 Cor. 11:28), but it’s certainly not limited to that time or to issues of sin. Jesus said, “But watch yourselves lest your hearts be weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and cares of this life” (Luke 21:34a emphasis added). This kind of self-awareness is not selfish, but living humbly and authentically before our Lord and Savior. Since Jesus welcomed the little children with their unhindered and vibrant emotions (Matt. 19:14), how could He not embrace all of us the same way?

“All that the Father gives Me will come to Me, and whoever comes to Me I will never cast out” (John 6:37).

“If anyone thirsts, let him come to Me and drink” (John 7:37).

(These thoughts have been greatly influenced by things I’ve heard and read recently from Steve Cuss, Alasdair Groves, and Chuck DeGroat.)

© 2025 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Who Is Sufficient?

Recently I was listening to a podcast, which shall remain nameless, on the subject of counseling and mental disorders. They pretty much denigrated psychology and psychotherapy and repeatedly said, “Scripture is sufficient.” Many people in the realm of “biblical counseling” grab onto the idea of the sufficiency of Scripture in a way that was not intended by the authors of most creeds. The Westminster Shorter Catechism states, “The Scriptures principally teach, what man is to believe concerning God, and what duty God requires of man.” Carl Trueman comments:

“In other words, the Scriptures are sufficient for a specific task: they reveal who God is, who man is in relation to him, and how that relationship is to be articulated in terms of worship. Even with this definition, however, we need to be precise concerning the nature of this sufficiency. In some areas, the Scriptures are sufficient for teaching principles but not for providing specific details.”

Don’t get me wrong, I believe there is a lot in Scripture that is helpful and encouraging for those suffering with depression, anxiety, or other mental illnesses. We should certainly do things like encourage our brothers and sisters in the faith, pray for one another, confess our sins, care for those in need, and so on, just as Scripture says. But Scripture doesn’t have a clear answer for things like:

• Should I take psychiatric medications?
• Should I allow my child to be admitted to the psych ward?
• Who can best help me to work through childhood trauma?

While I believe that the local church should be a place where all the biblical “one another” commands are practiced, I don’t believe that most churches or pastors are equipped to provide in-depth mental health counseling. The average church is 70 people, and there are limits to both our time and our training. Mental illness encapsulates a wide variety of experiences and needs that can escalate very quickly beyond the abilities of a church pastor.

We also need to remember that the Body of Christ is much larger than our local congregation. There are many well-qualified Christian counselors working in public and private counseling agencies for either in-person or online options. The ones I’ve worked with have known Scripture well and they aren’t afraid to include it when appropriate, but they also know what questions to ask and what advice to give for specific struggles. They go far beyond “Here’s a verse and a prayer.” I would say that Christians should always seek counselors who are also Christian because our worldview is important to us. But they don’t have to be members of the same church or denomination.

For those in church leadership, I make the following suggestions:

1) Learn the difference between “biblical counseling” and “Christian counseling”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HBmyDw7BGfs

2) Know when to refer to counseling professionals, who is available in your area, and what affiliations they may have with credentialing organizations.

3) If there are diagnosable psychiatric conditions as determined by medical professionals, it’s probably best to refer to outside counselors. Although the DSM is not infallible or exhaustive, it does include a lot of very serious information about potential problems.

From my own experience, I can say that finding a counselor you feel comfortable with is one of the biggest factors contributing to health and growth. I’ve met a couple counselors who seemed to have their own agendas and didn’t really listen to me. I quickly stopped going to them, and it took me a long time to risk reaching out to someone new. But I’ve had others (one past and one present) that I’ve enjoyed meeting with regularly, and I’m grateful to count them as brothers in Christ. I thoroughly believe that God has gifted them with the wisdom, training, and interpersonal skills needed to minister to people through ongoing counseling. That is not a skill set that all pastors have, and I suspect that if pastors do have counseling gifts they will probably not be satisfied to be preparing sermons instead.

“For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members of one another. Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them…” (Rom. 12:4-6).

“Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God, who has made us sufficient to be ministers of a new covenant, not of the letter but of the Spirit. For the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life” (2 Cor. 3:5-6).

© 2025 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.

Says Who?

Lately I’ve been delving into one of my side interests—psychology. (When I was finishing college and trying to decide what to do next, I was accepted for the Masters in Counseling program at Denver Seminary before I decided to go to Wheaton instead. God had different plans for me.) I’ve been watching a number of videos from Steve Cuss on CapableLife.com, including some about our inner critics. I don’t know about you, but I have a loud inner critic. He tells me often that I’m not good enough, not smart enough, and that I better keep my mouth shut so other people don’t find out I’m an imposter and I don’t belong here. (Even now I’m arguing with the voice that’s telling me “Real writers don’t wait a month between blog posts!”)

Steve wisely points out that we need to compare the voice of our inner critic with the truth of God’s Word in order to ignore the lies. Mark Batterson puts it well in A Million Little Miracles:

Shame says, “I am a mistake.”
God says, “You are My workmanship.”
Shame says, “I am unworthy.”
God says “You are worth the cross.”
Shame says, “I am not enough.”
God says, “You can do all things through Christ who strengthens you.”
Shame says, “I am an accident.”
God says, “You are fearfully and wonderfully made.”
Shame says, “I am unlovable.”
God says, “You are My beloved.”
Shame says, “I am insignificant.”
God says, “You are the apple of My eye.” (184)

The inner critic, judge, shame—whatever name you want to call the enemy of our soul—tries to convince us that God wants nothing to do with us unless we can achieve perfection on our own, which is a futile effort. Paul reminds us in Romans 8:1, “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” We don’t make ourselves acceptable. God first chose us, loved us, redeemed us, and adopted us into His family, all long before we even thought of how we might perform to try to win His approval.

I should note as well that God’s opinion of us should matter far more than the opinions of man, but we can often be sidelined by the fear of what others think. We all want to be loved and accepted, but every one of us has different standards, so pleasing everyone is doomed from the start. But our Creator gives us far more grace than we can even begin to imagine.

Steve Cuss asks a question that I’ve been thinking about a lot. “What if I were at least as ___ to myself as God is?” What would be different if I were as gracious, loving, and forgiving of myself as God is? I have no doubt the result would be less anxiety and more joy. I may not get there very quickly, and my inner critic is not likely to quit work, but he doesn’t have to have the final word.

“By this we shall know that we are of the truth and reassure our heart before Him; for whenever our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart, and He knows everything” (1 John 3:19-20).

© 2025 Dawn Rutan. Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture are ESV and all images copyright free from pixabay.com. The opinions stated do not necessarily reflect the views of my church or employer.