During prayer and meditation, an idea hit me like a thunderbolt: What separates me from God? What am I holding on to? What am I still unwilling to surrender?
Is it my obsessive thinking? My need for control? The fragility of my ego? Where am I telling God, “I’ll do this, but not that. I will believe, but I won’t trust”?
I may never say those words out loud, but my actions speak them clearly. I’ll keep up appearances for the world because its approval still means more to me than I want to admit. I want to follow God, but I also want to protect my reputation, satisfy my desires, and have things my way.
Through our actions and thinking, we reveal how deeply we’re in love with the world—and how much of ourselves we still withhold from God.
I remember a story from The Awe of God about a preacher whose wrongdoing led to public humiliation and imprisonment. He told the author that he still loved Jesus throughout it all. That raises an uncomfortable question: How can you love Jesus and continue doing wrong?
I do it all the time. We do it all the time.
We separate our actions here on earth from our relationship with God, as though they have nothing to do with each other. We pray, profess our faith, and then quietly make exceptions for the things we don’t want to give up.
I do it when I justify a resentment. When I defend my pride. When I insist on controlling something I’ve already asked God to handle. I say I trust Him, yet keep reaching for the steering wheel.
My love for God may be sincere, but there are still places where I put what I want ahead of what He asks. Recognizing that should move me to examine myself, not give me an excuse.
Where does my faith become conditional? Where am I keeping Him out? Where am I saying, “God, this part of my life is mine”?
I can spend a lifetime looking faithful while avoiding the surrender that faith requires. But God sees the places I hide behind appearances. He knows the fear beneath my need for control and the insecurity beneath my need for approval. I can bring those things to Him honestly, without pretending I’ve already overcome them.
My actions are part of my relationship with God. How I treat people, what I hold on to, and what I do when no one is watching—all of it belongs in the surrender.
So today, my prayer is simple:
God, show me what I’m still choosing over You. Help me face it without excuses. Loosen my grip on the things I keep asking You to carry. Give me the willingness to trust You, even when it costs me comfort, approval, or the satisfaction of having my own way.
Help me love You in the choices no one else sees.
