NOVEMBER 11, 2025

  “As my sufferings mounted I soon realized that there were two ways in which I could respond to my situation -- either to react with bitterness or seek to transform the suffering into a creative force. I decided to follow the latter course.” 

― Martin Luther King Jr.

LAMENTATIONS 3-5

14The elders are gone from the city gate;

the young men have stopped their music.

15Joy is gone from our hearts;

our dancing has turned to mourning.

16The crown has fallen from our head.

Woe to us, for we have sinned!

17Because of this our hearts are faint,

because of these things our eyes grow dim(5:14-17) 

HEBREWS 8

I will put my laws in their minds

and write them on their hearts.

I will be their God,

and they will be my people.

11No longer will they teach their neighbor,

or say to one another, ‘Know the Lord,’

because they will all know me,

from the least of them to the greatest.

12For I will forgive their wickedness

and will remember their sins no more.”^c

JOURNAL 

Humility has a way of stripping away the illusions I like to hold onto, the idea that I understand why people act the way they do, or that I can somehow see into their motives. The truth is, I don’t. I never really know what someone else is going through, what pain they’re carrying, or what fears shape their choices. And when I forget that, I start judging, assuming, and closing myself off.

Part of surrendering to God, I think, is learning to stop assuming and start trusting. It means being humbly honest about what I don’t know, especially when something hurts or confuses me. It means remembering that my perspective isn’t the only one, and that even in moments of conflict, especially with the people I love most, God is doing something far bigger than I can see.

That kind of humility is uncomfortable. It’s not passive or weak, it’s choosing to stay soft when my pride wants to harden. It’s choosing wonder instead of certainty, peace instead of control. It’s believing what Hebrews 8 promises, that God is writing His law on my heart, shaping me from the inside out, and trusting that His story is still unfolding even when I don’t understand the plot.

When Lamentations 5:14–17 speaks of lost joy and fading strength, it reminds me that pride always leads there. But humility brings me back to life. It lets me live in the mystery of today, aware that I don’t have all the answers and don’t need them. It’s trusting that God’s goodness is still working beneath the surface of things I can’t make sense of.

And maybe that’s what surrender really looks like, not giving up, but opening up. Letting go of the need to be right or to fix everything. Allowing myself to stand in the tension, to love in uncertainty, and to rest in the quiet assurance that even when I can’t see it, God’s plan is still good. That’s scary, yes... but it’s also where joy begins.

31“Or suppose a king is about to go to war against another king. Won’t he first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand men to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand? 32If he is not able, he will send a delegation while the other is still a long way off and will ask for terms of peace. 33In the same way, those of you who do not give up everything you have cannot be my disciples.

LUKE 14:31-33