The Gift of Surrender: Becoming Whole – A Journey from Performance to Presence Part 3

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

2 Corinthians 12:9 (NIV)

If the first part of my journey was about taking off the mask, the next step was even harder: learning to stop striving.

I had built a life on effort—proving, producing, pushing forward. Whether in ministry, marriage, or manhood, I thought success meant being strong, competent, and always in control. Vulnerability felt like failure. Rest felt irresponsible. Weakness? Not even an option.

But grace has a way of interrupting that hustle. God didn’t just want to remove the mask—I believe He wanted to heal the face underneath it.

It didn’t happen in one dramatic moment. It happened slowly, in the sacred undoing of who I thought I had to be. Through prayer, spiritual direction, and honest conversations, I began to realize how much of my life had been fueled by fear: fear of not being enough, fear of being too much, fear of being found out.

And then this truth sank in:I don’t hustle for my worth—I walk in it.

Surrender wasn’t giving up—it was opening up. It was laying down the weight of expectations, false identities, and performance-driven love. It was learning that leadership could mean presence, not pressure. That being a man of God didn’t mean pretending I didn’t bleed. That real strength shows up as softness when it’s safe to do so.

I redefined what masculinity looked like. I re-learned how to trust others with the truth of who I was. And I slowly became more human—not less.

If you're reading this and you feel tired—really tired—not just in your body but in your soul, maybe it's time to ask: What would it look like to stop striving and start surrendering?

Let me ask you:

What would it mean for you to stop striving and start surrendering?

In what areas of your life are you still trying to prove something?

Who could benefit from the real you—flaws and all?

You don’t have to be everything to everyone. You don’t have to fix what only God can heal. Your worth is not in what you achieve—it’s in who you are, and whose you are.

God, I’m tired of proving. Help me lay down what I was never meant to carry. Teach me to live in grace, not grind. Let me lead with love, not fear.And remind me again: I don’t have to earn what You’ve already given. Amen.

Leave a comment or journal your response to the reflection questions. I’d love to hear what surrender might look like in your life right now.