What Has You? (Peruvian Transportation and Worrying)

¨Surrender it to Me.¨ 

I hear the familiar voice once again as I sit in the rickety seat of the public transport bus. 

The spring breeze is blowing in through the open windows as the sweaty ticket collector behind me yells out the destination of the bus, trying to persuade bystanders to board.

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I grip onto my thoughts as I grip onto the handrails in the bus. 

This is the millionth time I've ridden a public transport bus since I moved to Peru almost three years ago, yet the fears are still the same. The scattered worries attack my brain like the fruit flies attacking the fresh produce in the open-air markets we pass.

What if I get robbed? 

They keep attacking with each jolty squeaking stop, with each person that boards. 

Robbery is quite common here in Peru, but really mostly the pick-pocketing-kind of robbery. The annoying-but-not-necessarily-life-changing type of robbery. 

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On two different occasions, a desperate soul has tried to snatch my phone, but neither attempt was successful, and I've never had any other encounters with robbery here.  However, the thoughts invade my mind like the robbers themselves, and if I'm honest, it's these thoughts that result in the shortness of breath and the near panic-attacks I'm feeling now as I sit in the ratty threadbare seat of the transport bus. 

I tune my ears to better concentrate on the voice I've just heard. It's a familiar one, and I begin to answer back: 

¨But I have surrendered everything to You! (Hello, I moved to Peru!)¨

¨No, you haven't,¨ 

is the simple response. 

"Why would you be worrying so much about your material goods being taken if you'd truly surrendered them to Me?"

Which, now that I think about it, is a little humbling. IF someone did get a hold of my bag, they'd only find two English books (one of them being the Bible), a notebook full of scribbles and a pen. 

If they somehow got a hold of what was in my pockets, they'd have a mini ipod with a cracked screen, a hand-me-down phone, eleven soles (the equivalent of about 3 dollars) and an American credit card (okay, granted, that might be worth something....but anyways). 

The inner battle continues. 

What was I so worried about? 

"Okay, God, I REALLY give you all these fears AND all my material possessions."

"No you don't" 

I hear again.

I was holding onto these things as tightly as I was gripping onto the bars of the bus as I slowly pull myself up off the seat, trying (and failing as always) to keep perfect balance. I mention to the ticket collector where I need to get off, and the bus jolts to a stop.

"Okay, God, fine, what do I need to do then," 
I think as I prepare to get off the bus. 

I've "felt" the most "surrendering feeling" that I can muster up, and attached it to the distant words "I surrender it to You,", and it still isn't even coming close to what He's calling me to do. 

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Doesn't matter what you have, it only matters what has you.

-Kris Valloton, Bethel Church

About that time, I realize that I'm trying, once again, to do this whole thing in my own strength. Like a child failing miserably to make up some "faked" confession because he's been caught in the act, I am trying to fake my surrender because I've been caught worrying once again.

 "Holy Spirit, come and help me, give me the heart of surrender," I  pray. 

I realize that these worries will only disappear as I fully surrender every aspect of my life to Him. 

Real, genuine surrender.

¨