To Be Made Willing
“So may You give to the intellect, wisdom to comprehend that one thing; to the heart, sincerity to receive this understanding; to the will, purity that wills only one thing. In prosperity may You grant perseverance to will one thing; amid distractions, collectedness to will one thing; in suffering, patience to will one thing.”
- Søren Kierkegaard
I want to change, yet I want to stay the same more than I want to change. The things I am doing are not the things I want to be doing, but I keep wanting to do them more than I want not to.
This is the frustration at the heart of Paul’s inner conflict in Romans 7. He doesn’t do the good he wants to do and keeps on doing the evil he doesn’t want to do.
There are two types of “wants” mankind wrestles with. They differ not only by strength but also by depth. The stronger want is typically shallower. The subtler want is typically deeper.
The things I desire most urgently are at odds with the things I desire most deeply.
The last word I want to win in a disagreement is the strong want. The relationship I want to build on respect is the deep want.
The new gadget I want to buy is the strong want. The life of contentment I want to foster is the deep want.
The cookie platter I want to overeat is the strong want. The healthy body I want to honor God with is the deep want.
How do I do the things I mostly deeply want to do when I feel stuck doing the things I have built a habit of?
To anyone who would be his follower, Jesus taught them to deny themselves, take up their cross daily, and follow him. (Luke 9:23)
At first, this teaching feels like, “try harder.” But that does not work for long, nor do I think that is what he was saying.
The last step, “and follow me,” is revealing. This is not a call to greater effort but to greater surrender.
To deny the self is to let the self die. It is the abandonment of what I think is best to make room for God to do what truly is best.
Apart from God, I constantly have to decide between options that are within my will. It’s an inner battle between what I think is right and what feels easier. Usually, it doesn’t take much to convince myself that what feels easier is justifiable.
However, if I am carrying my cross, I am no longer deciding between this course of action or that one but between my will and his.
The first decision, made apart from God, is a matter of effort. The second, made with God, is a matter of surrender.
Surrender is still challenging, but in a different way.
When I let go of what I think is best, I have to learn to trust that he can and will fulfill my needs. I have to learn to trust that someone I cannot see will lead my life better than I can.
But when I choose his will, I no longer have to thrash around in the sea of my contradicting wants. The one thing that can turn my cacophony of desires into a symphony of single-mindedness is the death of my agenda, so Christ has room to work his in me. (Galatians 2:20)
This sounds good in theory but is difficult in practice.
What if I want to choose his will, but my desire to stay the same is stronger? Or what if I want to change, but not quite yet?
I think the only prayer we have in this situation is an honest one. I have found this one by F.B. Meyer helpful:
“I am not willing, but I am willing to be made willing.”
This prayer is useful because it is honest. Honesty makes us humble. Humility makes us moldable.
Though I may not yet want to do his will, I want to want it. Though I am not yet the kind of person who always wants what God wants, I trust he can make me so.
I find he meets me here with greater ease than when I attempt to convince myself I am further along than I am.
I need not walk perfectly for God to purify my desires, only in his direction. In the insufficiency of my imperfect wants, I find greatest freedom in the sufficiency of his perfect grace.