——写在〈当信仰进入家庭，却把家庭推远〉之后：一段关于回转与操练的自白

文 / HuSir

　　在上一篇文章中，我写到：真正的家庭信仰，并不是把信仰变成家庭里的宗教活动，而是让信仰自然渗透进生活的每一个层面，使人活出一种不再被恐惧、控制与内心冲突捆绑的自由状态。

　　写下这些话时，我并非站在一个“已经做到”的位置上。恰恰相反，正是在反复失败、反复焦虑、反复自责之后，我才逐渐意识到：最需要被更新的，正是我自己。

　　道理我懂，圣经我也并不陌生，把忧虑卸给神的教导更是反复思想过。然而在真实生活中，我却常常一转身就把主权重新握回自己手中——继续判断、继续计算、继续不服，在心里与环境暗暗对抗。忧虑并未真正消失，只是换了一种看似更“理性”的外衣。结果往往是，一遇到事情便情绪失控，被人形容为“着相”“没有城府”，随之而来的，是心理和身体上各种说不清的“不痛快”。

　　直到最近，我才慢慢看清，这并非单纯的信心不足，而是一个更深层的问题——顺服的问题。

　　回望自己的生活轨迹，我发现从小到大，内心几乎被“标准答案”所占据。我习惯于判断对错、比较高下、预判结果，也在无形中被鼓励着要做“人上人”“出人头地”。久而久之，我在心里形成一种根深蒂固的判断：只要我想得更清楚、看得更远、算得更周全，事情理应按照我认为“更合理”的方式展开。

　　这种心态，在工作中尤为明显。面对上级的安排、制度的逻辑与现实的限制，我常常在外表顺从，内心却极不顺。并非事情本身无法承受，而是我心里始终认定：他们未必比我更明白、更聪明、更有远见。于是，事情尚未真正开始，内心的抵抗早已消耗了大量精力；长期累积的结果，便是烦躁、不满、争辩，甚至愤怒。

　　面对社会中的人和事，我也常常落入同样的模式。对荒谬之事难以释怀，对不合理之人难以容忍，情绪反复被点燃。理性上我知道“生气并不能成就神的义”，可内心深处，却始终放不下那份“我明明看得更清楚”的执念。

　　更让我惭愧的是，这样的状态，竟也被我不自觉地带进了信仰之中。

　　我信靠耶稣，却并不情愿真正放下自己的“智慧”；我承认神掌权，却不愿顺服祂为我预备的现实环境；我口中说交托，心里却仍在暗暗做主。仿佛一个反复被击倒、却总想重新站回旧位置的人——明知那里不是生命之路，却依旧舍不得离开。

　　我甚至常常提醒他人，在家庭中要温柔、要耐心、要让信仰成为爱的源头。而当我意识到，这些话同样正指向我自己时，内心充满羞愧。不是因为我劝勉了别人，而是因为我发现：我所劝的，是真的；我所缺的，也是真的。

　　正是在这样的挣扎中，我才逐渐明白：顺服，并不是让人变得愚钝、被动或失去判断力；顺服真正需要放下的，并不是思考能力，而是那种根深蒂固的执念——非要按我预期的方式、节奏和结果，来证明自己是对的。

　　我之所以如此难以顺服，并非因为我顽固，而是因为这一生，几乎都是靠“自己想清楚、自己扛下来、自己撑过去”活着的。这套旧逻辑，曾在许多时候保护过我，如今却也正在无声地消耗我。

　　信仰并不是要否定这一切，而是邀请我进入一种更深的更新：在不顺、不解、不甘之中，停止与环境对抗，转而诚实地问一句——我此刻的痛苦，究竟来自事情本身，还是来自我不肯放手的主权？

　　当我开始这样问自己时，才慢慢意识到：顺服并不是一蹴而就的决定，而是一种需要反复操练的回转。不是一次性交出所有控制，而是在每一次想重新做主的时候，愿意承认：我又想靠自己了。

　　这篇文字，并非写给“已经顺服得很好的人”，而是写给像我一样，在信仰中反复挣扎、反复失败，却仍不愿放弃回转向神的人。若你也发现自己懂得不少，却活得很累；信主多年，却仍被愤怒、焦虑和控制感牵引——你并不孤单。

　　或许，神并不是在等我们彻底顺服之后才肯同行；祂正在等待的，是我们停止假装已经顺服，转而诚实地回到祂面前。我知道这对我而言并不容易，于是尝试给自己一个简单、可行的操练方式，没有高深的言语，只有四个字：与神同行，或说聚精会神。当我觉察到那个旧有的自我又要失控时，便提醒自己回到当下，专注于眼前正在经历的事情，认真去做，尽量屏蔽那些容易引发老我“肆虐”的搅扰。弟兄姐妹们，或许也可以一同操练。

　　愿我们在家庭中、在工作里、在每一个让人不顺的现实情境中，一次次学习这样的操练：不急着证明自己是对的，而是慢慢学会把主权交还给神。不是为了显得属灵，而是为了重新得着自由。

　　这不是退后，而是真正的回转；
　　这不是放弃思考，而是让生命重新对准源头。

　　愿我们在失败中操练顺服，在回转中重新得力。

When We Know We Should Submit,Yet Keep Wanting to Take Control

— A Confession on Repentance and Practice, Written after
“When Faith Enters the Family but Pushes It Away”
By HuSir

In my previous article, I wrote that true household faith is not about turning faith into religious activities within the family, but about allowing faith to naturally permeate every aspect of daily life, enabling a person to live in a state of freedom no longer bound by fear, control, or inner conflict.

When I wrote those words, I was not speaking from a position of “having already achieved this.” On the contrary, it was precisely through repeated failure, recurring anxiety, and ongoing self-reproach that I gradually came to realize: the one most in need of renewal was myself.

I understand the principles. I am familiar with Scripture. I have reflected many times on the teaching of casting our anxieties upon God. Yet in real life, I often turn around and take control back into my own hands—continuing to judge, calculate, resist, and quietly oppose my circumstances inwardly. The anxiety does not truly disappear; it merely puts on a more “rational” disguise. The result is that whenever something happens, I become emotionally reactive, described by others as “over-attached” or “lacking restraint,” followed by various forms of psychological and physical discomfort that are difficult to put into words.

Only recently have I begun to see that this is not simply a lack of faith, but a deeper issue—the issue of submission.

Looking back on my life, I realize that from childhood onward, my inner world has been filled with “standard answers.” I became accustomed to judging right and wrong, comparing myself with others, and predicting outcomes. I was subtly encouraged to become “someone above others,” to “stand out,” and over time I formed a deeply rooted belief: if I think more clearly, see farther, and calculate more thoroughly, then things ought to proceed in what I consider the “more reasonable” way.

This mindset has been especially evident in my work life. When facing directives from superiors, institutional logic, and real-world constraints, I often appear compliant on the surface while remaining deeply resistant inside. It is not that the tasks themselves are unbearable, but that I am convinced they are not necessarily more perceptive, more intelligent, or more farsighted than I am. As a result, before anything truly begins, my inner resistance has already consumed enormous energy. Over time, this accumulates into irritability, dissatisfaction, argumentation, and even anger.

I find myself falling into the same pattern when dealing with society and people at large. I become indignant at absurdities and intolerant of what seems unreasonable. My emotions are repeatedly triggered. Rationally, I know that “human anger does not produce the righteousness God desires,” yet deep down I cannot let go of the conviction that “I see things more clearly.”

What brings me the greatest shame is that I have unknowingly carried this same condition into my faith.

I profess trust in Jesus, yet I am unwilling to truly lay down my own “wisdom.” I acknowledge God’s sovereignty, yet I resist submitting to the concrete circumstances He has prepared for me. I speak of surrender with my lips, while quietly retaining control in my heart. I am like someone repeatedly knocked down, yet determined to return to the same old position—knowing it is not the path of life, yet unwilling to leave it.

I often remind others to be gentle and patient within their families, to let faith become the source of love. But when I realized that these words apply equally to myself, I am filled with shame—not because I have exhorted others, but because I realize that what I have spoken is true, and what I lack is also real.

It is through this struggle that I have slowly come to understand: submission does not mean becoming dull, passive, or incapable of judgment. What submission truly requires us to relinquish is not our ability to think, but a deeply ingrained fixation—the insistence that things must unfold according to my expected methods, timing, and outcomes in order to prove that I am right.

My difficulty with submission does not stem from stubbornness alone. Rather, it is because for most of my life I have survived by “figuring things out myself, carrying the burden myself, and enduring it myself.” This old logic once protected me in many ways, but now it is silently wearing me down.

Faith is not asking me to deny all of this, but inviting me into a deeper renewal: in moments of resistance, confusion, and unwillingness, to stop fighting against my circumstances and instead ask honestly—does my current pain come from the situation itself, or from my refusal to release control?

When I began asking myself this question, I slowly realized that submission is not a one-time decision, but a repeated practice of turning back. It is not about handing over all control at once, but about being willing, each time I try to take charge again, to admit: I am relying on myself once more.

This piece is not written for those who “submit well,” but for people like me—those who struggle repeatedly in faith, fail repeatedly, yet refuse to give up turning back to God. If you find that you understand many truths yet live with exhaustion; if you have believed for many years yet remain driven by anger, anxiety, and the need for control—you are not alone.

Perhaps God is not waiting for us to achieve perfect submission before walking with us. Perhaps what He awaits is that we stop pretending we have already submitted, and instead return to Him with honesty. I know this is difficult for me, so I have tried to adopt a simple, practical way of practice—no lofty language, just four words: walking with God, or what I also call focused presence. When I sense my old self beginning to lose control, I remind myself to return to the present moment, to attend carefully to what is right in front of me, and to filter out distractions that allow the old self to run rampant. Brothers and sisters may find it worthwhile to practice this together.

May we, in our families, at work, and in every real-life situation that feels resistant, repeatedly learn this practice—not rushing to prove that we are right, but gradually learning to return authority to God. Not to appear spiritual, but to recover freedom.

This is not retreat, but genuine repentance.
This is not the abandonment of thought, but a realignment of life toward its source.

May we practice submission in our failures, and regain strength through repentance.