Listen Linda

Surrender. It’s leaning into the flow of things you can’t control. Submitting to a power greater than myself. And accepting that whatever happens, happens. Surrendering to my God’s will. It’s not giving up. Unless it’s me giving up the chaos I can’t control and let go. It’s giving in to the thought of asking for help. It’s being vulnerable by surrendering that point. It’s a sign of strength, intelligence, and understanding.

Surrendering isn’t a weakness by any means. I’m not resigning in defeat. I’m stepping into a deeper trust—understanding that there are forces beyond my control affecting my journey in recovery. Because my life is unmanageable. Even though I’m trying to hold it together.  I need to release that thought. And bend to human will. And even though it is yielding, not because of the incapacity, but because wisdom teaches me that grasping too tightly only creates even more resistance. Releasing this metaphorical grip on my will and surrendering to my higher power—whether it be God, the universe, or simply the natural unfolding of life—is the act of understanding that some things are meant to be carried not by our own strength, but by something greater.

It’s my invitation into vulnerability, an embrace of the unknown, and a recognition that asking for help is a form of true strength rather than failure. Surrendering is moving with the current instead of against it. So, I can find peace in the inevitability of life’s tides rather than exhausting myself in resistance. And in that space—where my control is relinquished—there is clarity, understanding, and a newfound freedom that was never possible while holding on. And there is something profoundly brave about acknowledging what needs to change and opening myself up to that transformation. It’s going to be messy. It’s going to be extremely challenging. But it’s also going to be freeing. Ultimately that act of surrendering to recovery is an embrace of life at its fullest, accepting both the struggle and the beauty that comes with it.