Dear Dreamer,
There’s something profoundly human about wanting control. We grip our plans like lifelines, clench our timelines like contracts with the universe, and hold our breath waiting for things to unfold exactly as we’ve decided they should. Our bodies tell the story: tight fists, raised shoulders, locked jaws—the physical architecture of “I’ve got this” when deep down we know we don’t.
Maybe you’re waiting for an answer that hasn’t come. Maybe you’re watching a door stay closed that you were certain would open. Maybe you’re holding onto a dream that’s taking a different shape than you imagined, or gripping a relationship that refuses to be forced into your vision of how it should be.
Sound familiar?
You’re not alone in this. Jesus Himself knew what it felt like to wrestle with surrender. In the garden of Gethsemane, facing the most terrifying moment of His life, He didn’t pray with calm, collected faith. He prayed sweating, trembling, fully human and fully afraid: “Not my will, but Yours be done” (Luke 22:42).
This DreamFlow practice is an invitation to enter that same garden—not as a place of defeat, but as a place of trust.
Why Your Body Needs to Practice Surrender
You can’t think your way into letting go. You’ve already tried that. You’ve told yourself to “just trust God” a hundred times, and yet here you are—shoulders still tight, breath still shallow, hands still gripping.
That’s because surrender isn’t just a mental decision. It’s a whole-body experience. Your nervous system needs to feel the difference between clenching and releasing. Your muscles need to rehearse opening instead of guarding. Your breath needs to remember what it’s like to soften instead of brace.
When you make tight fists and then slowly open your palms, you’re not just doing a stretch—you’re teaching your body what trust feels like. When you bow forward and let your head hang heavy, you’re physically practicing “I don’t have to hold this all up.” When you extend your arms with open palms, you’re rehearsing the offering: “God, this is Yours, not mine.”
The Sacred Journey from Standing to Stillness
This practice moves intentionally from standing tall to resting low. It’s not random—it’s the arc of surrender itself.
You begin upright, reaching toward heaven with open hands, then bowing down in acknowledgment that you can’t do this alone. You move through lunges where you literally speak your release: “God, I give You my timeline.” You descend into heart-melting pose where your chest lowers toward the earth—the physical picture of “Not my will, but Yours.” And finally, you arrive at child’s pose, forehead to the ground, the posture of complete trust.
This isn’t about collapse. It’s about being held.
The descent mirrors what Jesus did in Gethsemane: from standing prayer to kneeling desperation to face-down surrender. And what happened after that surrender? He rose with the strength to face what was ahead. Not because He forced it, but because He trusted it.
Permission to Tremble and Still Choose Trust
Here’s what I need you to know: surrender doesn’t feel peaceful at first. It might feel like shaking. Like crying. Like anger rising up because letting go feels like losing. That’s okay. That’s real. That’s human.
Jesus didn’t skip those feelings in the garden. He didn’t spiritually bypass His fear or pretend He wasn’t struggling. He felt it all—and then chose trust anyway.
So if emotions come up during this practice, don’t push them away. That tightness in your throat when you say “I give You my timeline”? That’s not weakness. That’s honesty. That trembling when you bow forward? That’s courage. That relief when you finally rest in child’s pose? That’s what grace feels like in your body.
Carrying Open Hands Forward
The beautiful thing about practicing surrender is that it becomes a place you can return to. Each time you make fists and then release them, each time you bow low and whisper “Not my will,” each time you extend open palms toward heaven—you’re creating a pathway in your nervous system.
You’re building muscle memory for trust.
This doesn’t mean you’ll never grip again. You will. Control is a reflex when we’re scared. But now you’ll have a practice to return to. Now you’ll recognize the clenching sooner. Now you’ll know what it feels like in your body to release what was never yours to carry.
A Final Encouragement
Jesus chose surrender in Gethsemane not because it was easy, but because He trusted the Father’s timing more than His own timeline. He opened His hands even when everything in Him wanted to clench.
That same invitation is yours today. Not to have it all figured out. Not to feel perfectly peaceful about every uncertainty. Just to practice—breath by breath, bow by bow—opening your hands and trusting that what God is doing is better than what you’re trying to force.
You don’t have to grip so tightly. You were never meant to control everything. And the relief you’ll feel when you finally let go? That’s not giving up. That’s coming home.
You Got This,
Candace Kamille💛
Practice this flow whenever you notice yourself clenching—your fists, your timeline, your will. Remember: surrender isn’t weakness. It’s the bravest thing you’ll ever do.
Let’s connect. Not just in the comments, not just with a double tap. I want to know what’s been on your heart. Let’s talk, dream out loud, pray if you need it, laugh if you feel like it, just real space for real conversation.
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