Never Really Gone: Hope for What We Surrender
Lysa TerKeurst
5 min read ⭑
Many years ago, I boarded a flight feeling really tired and not in the mood to talk to anyone. So I decided to pull my Bible out of my backpack and lay it open across my lap. The plane started filling up, and eventually a businessman sat in the middle seat next to me. I thought my open Bible would deter him from talking, but it didn’t. He very quickly said, “It’s interesting that you’re reading the Bible.”
I replied, “Yes, I think the Bible is a very interesting book. What do you know about the Bible?”
He fumbled with his answer for a bit, letting me know he knew some basic facts about God, but he wasn’t very familiar with biblical truth. After a few minutes, he asked what I knew about the Bible. I told him a few things, and then I said, “Why don’t you ask me some questions, and I’ll show you where to read about those things in the Bible.”
Metropolitan Museum of Art; Unsplash+
He was pretty inquisitive and asked interesting questions. Soon, his questions got a little deeper, and I started praying and asking God to direct me to the right Scriptures. It turned into a very meaningful dialogue, and all of a sudden, I felt God pricking my heart to give this man my Bible.
While I witnessed to him, I simultaneously started having a bit of a disagreement with God in my mind. God, I can’t give this man my Bible. This is my Bible. This is the Bible that I use all the time and that I’ve had for years. I have so many notes in this Bible, and my kids have even written in this Bible. It’s very special to me, so I can’t give it away.
But God kept pressing me. Eventually, I closed my Bible and put it on the man’s lap. “I think you are supposed to have my Bible,” I told him.
Astonished, he started to hand it back to me, saying he couldn’t possibly accept such a gift. “God told me to give it to you,” I insisted. “Sometimes, the God of the universe pauses in the midst of all his creation to touch the heart of one person. Today, he paused for you.”
The man took it and made two promises. First, he said he would read it, and second, someday he would pass it on, doing for someone else what I’d done for him. I pulled out a receipt from my purse, scribbled down a few additional verses for him, and he was on his way.
After that day, I only spoke to Ron a few times. Normally stories like this just come and go, and that’s it. I’ve given away other things through the years and never heard anything more. And as time went on, I only rarely thought about that Bible and this man named Ron.
Until 24 years later, when that Bible found me again.
It found me in a place where I was deeply wrestling with the mystery of God. Wanting God to make a little more sense. Because after all I’d been through in the last decade of my life, it was crystal clear that, though I’ve always viewed God as a protector, he had allowed some of my greatest fears to come true: divorce, serious health crises, losing people I loved, court battles, the list goes on.
My prayers begging God to please not let certain things happen seemed so pointless. And if I couldn’t find safety with God, then I wouldn’t be able to find safety by counting on anyone else. My thoughts swirled with desperation and doubt.
Last year, I was speaking in San Antonio, Texas, when one of my friends let me know there were a few women there who wanted to see me.
“Anything we place in the hands of our God will never, ever truly be gone.”
It was Ron’s daughter, Ron’s sister, and a family friend. I couldn’t believe it! They told me that after Ron got the Bible, he gave his heart to Jesus. Then, he eventually led his family to Jesus. He’d kept the Bible, and it became a treasured possession for him. He had passed away a few years earlier. And then the Bible had gone to his daughter.
With tears in her eyes, she told me she’d brought the Bible with her and held it out for me to see. I was amazed. Slowly, I took the Bible from her and opened it up. As I turned the pages, I could see all my notes from years ago. And then, woven throughout my notes were Ron’s notes. And then, woven through Ron’s notes were his daughter’s notes.
She told me that this Bible had sustained her, mentored her and helped her walk through the devastating grief of losing her father at such a young age.
As I flipped through the Bible, I found a small piece of paper tucked inside. It was the receipt I’d pulled from my purse to write verses for Ron on the back. It was dated October 25, 2001. Twenty-four years.
Look at what God did. As Ron’s family and I processed this together, I cried and they cried, but mostly we simply stood in awe of this moment. The kindness of God to bring this story full circle astounded me. He didn’t have to do this, but he chose to let us see him do what only he could have done.
I took pictures of the Bible and then handed it back to Ron’s daughter. “God sure does love us, you know?” She nodded. After she was gone, I sat quietly by myself. I wanted to take all this in. And the words that kept coming to me were these:
Anything we place in the hands of our God will never, ever truly be gone. We can feel afraid of loss and grief and sacrifice and disappointment and getting our hearts broken and trusting him when it makes no sense to us at all. But we don’t have to stay afraid.
There’s a verse I love to bring to mind when I think about placing things in God’s hands: “‘Has not my hand made all these things, and so they came into being?’ declares the Lord. ‘These are the ones I look on with favor: those who are humble and contrite in spirit, and who tremble at my word’ ” (Isa. 66:2, NIV).
I like the thought of how powerful God’s hands are. He made all things with his hands. His hands are what he used to create and bring to life and restore and wipe tears and love and care.
He can turn loss into purpose. He can turn grief into healing. He can turn sacrifice into gifts we are delighted we gave up. He can take our disappointments and turn them into peaceful perspectives. He can turn broken hearts into a deeper sense of being loved by God himself. He gives such favor to those willing to be humble enough to completely trust him because they are so moved by his Word. And I want to be that girl.
Lysa TerKeurst is president and chief visionary officer of Proverbs 31 Ministries and the author of eight New York Times bestsellers, including I Want to Trust You, but I Don’t, Good Boundaries and Goodbyes, Forgiving What You Can’t Forget and It’s Not Supposed to Be This Way. Connect with her at www.LysaTerKeurst.com or on social media @LysaTerKeurst.
Adapted from “Making Peace with What I Can’t Control: Find Relief from the Exhaustion of Overthinking, Trying to Fix Others, and Wanting to Figure It All Out ” by Lysa TerKeurst. Copyright © 2026. Used with permission of Nelson Books.
