Submission doesn't come naturally to me. I have been called upon to submit at times and one I particularly remember was the time when Brenda, our firstborn, was about thirteen years old. She wrote a note home (this was way before email!) from camp saying that she was thinking about dedicating her life to missions and wanted to know if she had my permission. Due to our close relationship I suddenly was caught up with the idea that she might be going off as a missionary in some foreign land and considered what it would do to me. Later that night I walked a path back and forth across our five-acre lawn praying until I finally said, "She's yours, Lord." It has made a tremendous difference in our relationship for I have really not worried about her major decisions because I am not her owner but her guardian. She did not end up in Africa, but fought her way through the jungles of marriage, parenting, divorce and career.
A few years later I realized that I had not given our other two children to God in the same way, and so at Laity Lodge beside the Frio River I stopped and gave them to Him, also. It made such a mark on me that I could still take you to the exact spot today. Actually I have been criticized from people who know that I have not tried to dictate many of the major decisions in their life, but it is this feeling of stewardship rather than ownership that is being played out. Most of you know that Mary Alice has gone through brain tumor surgery. The night before she went in for surgery I spent one of the most emotional nights of my life. Fortunately Mary Alice felt very secure about the operation and was sleeping well, but I couldn't. The whole family had come to Mayo and we had spent the evening at a long dinner. A good family friend joined us and took a picture as we left the restaurant. None of us said a word, but we each knew how important that photo might become if she didn't make it through the next morning's surgery. I sat up most of the night listening to my CD player. A friend had given me a CD of Elvis Presley singing gospel, which was his first love. As I listened to him sing I thought how he sang with such great understanding of the simple message and how complicated and convoluted his life became. As I listened I became convinced that the great conflict in his life was because he understood the message but he did not want to live it. I know of no confusion that is as deep as a Christian who understands but is in rebellion. As I listened to him sing "there'll be peace in the valley for me someday" I truly hoped that he had found that peace.
But as I listened to that music I was at peace because I knew that I had submitted and that Mary Alice was His, not mine. I took my stewardship as her husband very seriously, but I did not own her nor control the circumstances. He was in control and so was my spirit.
Her successful surgery and recovery was reason to rejoice. The act of submitting was reason for eternal peace.
