Surrendering All Glory to God

I’ve recently been pondering what it looks like to surrender our ‘everything’ to Jesus. I know that when I’m out of my depth at work or struggling in my relationships, or grappling to be Jesus-like in a situation that is far from simple or easy, then I cry out to God very readily. Then I fall on my knees quickly and ask Him for help. I know I can’t do it, whatever it is, alone.

But what about when I’m doing well, when I’m flying along and choosing Jesus and reaping the delicious fruit for my labours? How quickly do I surrender all of that to Him, also? How ready am I to fall on my knees and thank Him for how He’s working it all out? When the world around me is heaping accolades on me, rather than giving me black marks … where am I with Jesus then? Sometimes I think it’s easier to surrender our wounds and weaknesses than our strengths and successes. What does it look like for us to take the more difficult journey of casting our crowns as well as our burdens on to Jesus?

The truth is that all we have and all we are is His. So that whatever flows out of us, all the glory for everything we are, and anything we do in life, belongs to the Lord. Of course, this doesn’t mean that we’re ‘worms’, and that the part we play in our lives doesn’t matter and is worthless. Quite the opposite is true. We matter beyond measure. Every detail in our lives matters beyond worth (Isaiah 43:4). But our holy God won’t share His glory with anyone (Isaiah 42:8). Why is that?

It’s certainly not because God is an egotistical monster, greedy for all the accolades! Rather it’s because He loves us too much to allow us to carry more than we can bear. We might be more familiar with thinking this way about our challenges, but it isn’t just the sorrows. Actually, God didn’t design us with the capacity to be worshipped. We’re not supposed to live with the burden of being universally adored. We belong to God and neither our spirits nor our bodies are equipped to bear that dreadful weight of receiving and sustaining universal praise.

I believe we can see this in some of the tragic stories of big icons and superstars in our world – even those in the Christian world - who have so struggled to carry the burden of their fame that they ‘check out’ in any number of ways: into sinfulness, addiction, meaninglessness, or even death. I feel compassion and fear for those whose gifts are significant, and whom God uses powerfully, but who receive and keep the glory for themselves. It’s not what we were designed for.

So, what does that mean for us today, if we recognise that we sort of believe in our own magnificence and revel too heavily in affirmation from others? Maybe there’s a challenge here to keep our hearts in check and not allow the weight of the privilege of our ‘crowns’ to push our sense of who we are beyond what we are created to bear. Our lovely Lord wants more for us than that.