Surrender

His name was John, my Uber driver with the white Kia. It was an hour and 20 minutes until I'd get home from Oklahoma. So much on my mind, thoughts racing, so I engaged in conversation to silence them. I asked him about himself, and he poured out his soul. He talked about his past drug addiction, his children, his struggles. We talked about the economy, road rage, and New Yorkers.

"I'm telling you, all you gotta do is surrender," he said.

Gritting my teeth, I nodded and smiled, looking out the window at the semi-trucks passing by, only for him to remark, "I used to drive those." I hated the word *surrender*. To me, it meant weakness. I never was the person who could just flow with the river. How could I just give up control?

He continued, "My wife said, 'Honey, Ubering is where your ministry starts.'" That's how I met her—by just surrendering. He loved her; you could tell. Anytime he talked about her, it just made him glow.

"So, if they’re willing, let them know Jesus loves them," he added.

However, it was his one story about how he picked up a client from an affluent neighborhood heading to the dope houses in Dallas that really got me. John said, "I talked to that man about my past and about how I surrendered control to the Lord. I asked the young man if I could pray for him. He responded, 'Yes, but I’m still going to get high.'"

Months went by, and I said, "Lord, I wonder whatever happened to that young man I prayed for that day." Lo and behold, who do I pick up but him. Now he looked different—he was all clean-cut, shaven. I looked back and said, "Shane, is that you?" That young man looked up and smiled.

I asked him how he'd been, only for him to respond, "You know, that night you prayed for me, I couldn’t get high. I've been sober since."

I smiled when I heard a voice—my voice—telling me to say and do something I'd never done before. I grappled with this, but I obliged and did exactly what I was told. The man smiled, tears swelling in his eyes, and responded, "You just answered a prayer of mine."

We arrived at my destination, and I responded with, "You pray for me, and I'll pray for you."

John said, "Sister, that’s what we do for each other."

As I got out of the car, he said, "Remember, all you gotta do is surrender to the Lord."

NP