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What do you say to God when you know exactly what He wants from you, but deep down inside, you don’t really want to give it to Him? We talk about surrender. We sing about surrender. We pray prayers of surrender. But what happens when we know what we should surrender while another voice inside us is still saying, “But I want this”?
Bruce Marshall tells a fascinating fictional story in his novel To Every Man a Penny. A priest named Father Gaston is called in to hear the confession of a man facing the death penalty the following day. With only hours left to live, the man knows he should repent. The problem is that he cannot honestly say he is sorry. He remembers his amorous affairs and sexual encounters with pleasure. Even with death staring him in the face, he admits that, given the opportunity, he would still want more.
Father Gaston could have lectured him or pleaded for a repentance the man did not possess. Instead, he searches for the smallest opening in his heart. He asks, “Are you at least sorry that you are not sorry?” The man agrees. There it is—a tiny crack in the door. Beneath his desire for what he knows he should reject is another desire: the desire to want something different. God can work through the tiniest opening in our hearts—even the small desire to desire Him.
What strikes me most is that even though the man was approaching death, Father Gaston could not force this man to feel something he did not feel. Surely if fear alone could produce repentance, knowing tomorrow would be our last day should do it. Yet sometimes we can see the consequences clearly, know what we ought to do, and still want what we know we should surrender.
Before we judge this man too harshly, perhaps we should admit that there is a little of him in all of us. I am sure there are things in all of our lives that we know have too much power over us. Maybe it is money, success, fame, recognition, alcohol, food, lustful thoughts and actions, anger, resentment, an unhealthy relationship, the need to be right, or the need to be in control.
Yet if we are completely truthful, there are times when we still want these things. We know what surrender would look like, but knowing and wanting are not the same thing. Sometimes we find ourselves standing before God unable to say, “Lord, take this from me,” because another part of us is still saying, “I want this.” St. Augustine’s famous line comes to mind: “Lord, give me chastity, just not yet.”
Maybe the most truthful prayer we can offer is simply, “Lord, make me willing to be willing.”
Although the circumstances are different, I hear a similar honesty in the Gospel of Mark. A desperate father brings his son to Jesus seeking healing. Jesus tells him that everything is possible to one who has faith, and the father responds, “I believe; help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24). He brings Jesus both his belief and his unbelief.
Perhaps we can do the same with our willingness. We can bring God the part of us that wants to follow Him and the part that resists. God already knows both are there.
We can all begin our day with a simple prayer like this: “Lord, I offer You my prayers, works, joys, and sufferings of this day.” With these words we place the entirety of our day before the Lord. Through this prayer, we offer God our complicated selves. We offer Him the parts He desires and the parts we are not sure we are willing to let go of. We offer Him the parts that want freedom and the parts that still cling to captivity.
This is not an excuse to remain where we are. It is a truthful first step toward allowing God to change us. Perhaps genuine surrender begins there—not with pretending or telling God what we think good Christians are supposed to say, but with bringing our resistance honestly into His presence. He already knows what we love, what we desire, what we cling to, and what we fear losing.
There may be something in your life today that you know God is asking you to surrender. Perhaps you are ready. If so, surrender it. But perhaps you know what you should want while another part of you still wants something else. Don’t run away from God because of that conflict. Bring the conflict to Him.
If you cannot yet honestly say, “Lord, take this from me,” then begin exactly where you are: “Lord, make me willing to be willing.”
Below is a song I wrote called “Willing to Be Willing.” I hope it speaks to your soul like it does to mine.
Perhaps holiness begins when we allow God into the complicated places we would rather keep hidden. Let us offer Him our prayers, works, joys, sufferings, desires, resistance, and even our unwillingness—our whole, complicated hearts.
Heavenly Father, You know what I freely surrender and what I still desperately want to hold onto. Give me the grace to be willing to be willing, and teach me to love You with my whole, complicated heart. Amen.
AMDG
AMDG is a Latin abbreviation for “Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam,” which means “For the Greater Glory of God.”
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Please take a moment to share your thoughts about today’s message below.
- Lord, Make Me Willing - September 21, 2026
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- Hungry - September 7, 2026
Another one that hits home. Thank you Brian.
Sherri
Thank you for your post! I’m glad you found the message beneficial.
Brian
Beautiful words to your song! How powerful. So thankful for you and your ministry.
Kelly
Thank you for your kind post!
Brian