Sarah Jakes Roberts never imagined she’d be here. Not in the pulpit, not leading a movement, not speaking to thousands about surrender. Years ago, she was simply trying to survive—navigating a teen pregnancy, the weight of expectations as the daughter of one of the most well-known pastors in America and the slow, painful realization that the life she had planned for herself wasn’t going to happen.
She tried to hold it all together. She tried to control the narrative, to rewrite her own story. And then, she let go.
That’s the paradox of surrender. The world tells us to fight, to hustle, to grip tightly to whatever scraps of control we can muster. But the Gospel tells a different story: that strength is found in laying things down, in opening our hands and letting God redefine what we thought we needed.
“Surrender with God is not defeat,” Roberts says. “It’s the only path to victory.”
For Roberts, that lesson wasn’t theoretical. It was hard-won through personal experience. Growing up as the daughter of Bishop T.D. Jakes, she was constantly aware of the expectations placed on her. When she became a mother as a teenager, she saw those expectations shatter. Later, as she built her own ministry and stepped into a calling that mirrored her father’s, she wrestled with the meaning of success—and what it would cost her to attain it.
“I felt very protective about not making it look like I had arrived,” she says. “Because I arrived before anyone knew my name. I arrived the moment I decided that teen pregnancy and divorce wouldn’t define me. I arrived when I chose to believe that God’s love was still accessible to me.”
Her book, Power Moves, explores this reframing of success—not as a series of achievements but as a process of becoming. True power, she argues, isn’t found in accolades or influence but in the ability to keep growing, to keep surrendering old narratives for the sake of something greater.
“The more I see, the more I get the shiny stickers and trophies, it doesn’t feel any different,” she admits. “It doesn’t make me feel any more successful or whole or powerful. If anything, it makes me feel more vulnerable and fragile.”
And that, perhaps, is the paradox at the heart of surrender. The world tells us to clutch tightly to whatever scraps of power we can find, to grip our identities like life rafts. But the Gospel tells a different story: that strength is found in laying things down, in opening our hands and letting God redefine what we thought we needed.
For Roberts, that’s not just a personal journey—it’s the framework for her approach to faith. She isn’t interested in a Sunday-only spirituality. She believes that faith should show up in every area of life: finances, business ethics, health, relationships. That means tackling the uncomfortable, practical questions alongside spiritual growth.
“We have to ask, ‘How does this faith show up in my life?’” Roberts says. “How do I integrate it into my business, my finances, my wellness? Because if we don’t, someone else will. And I want to make sure that we’re engaged in those conversations too.”
The intergenerational aspect of Roberts’ work is intentional. Too often, she says, we dismiss the wisdom of those who came before us without understanding the context that shaped them. At the same time, older generations can be resistant to the new ways the younger generation is reshaping the world. The solution isn’t dismissiveness—it’s curiosity.
“We judge an older generation for their outcomes without seeing the process that created them,” Roberts says. “And I think understanding that process can help us change our own philosophies about how we show up in the world.”
Conversely, younger generations can teach their elders that change isn’t always bad—that evolution is part of faith, part of growth, part of what it means to stay engaged.
“Even as I get older,” Roberts laughs, “my kids are showing me new ideas all the time and I just want to say, ‘Listen, the way I did it is fine, I don’t need anything changing!’ But we have to stay open.”
Ultimately, that’s the heartbeat of surrender—not just letting go of control, but staying open to the transformation God is trying to bring. It’s uncomfortable. It’s unglamorous. It’s not a word you can slap on a coffee mug and sell at a church bookstore. But it’s the only way forward.
“God’s plan for our lives will always require us to release something,” Roberts says. “But if we’re willing to trust Him, if we’re willing to let go, what we gain will always be greater than what we give up.”
