I have been in a wrestling match with myself for longer than I care to admit.
There are areas of my life—habits and patterns—that I know need to change. I have confessed them. I have surrendered them. And then, more times than I can count, I have picked them right back up again. And every time I do, I find the same thing waiting for me—not freedom, relief, or satisfaction—just the dull, grinding misery of the flesh trying to be its own god. If you have ever stood in that same frustrating place, you know exactly what I mean. You love God. You are born again. You are not the person you used to be. And yet the relentless, uncooperative flesh still wages war. Paul described this inner war succinctly:
“For the good that I will to do, I do not do; but the evil I will not to do, that I practice. Now if I do what I will not to do, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me.” Romans 7:19–20
This is not an excuse. It is a raw diagnosis of the conflict between our born again soul and our flesh. And the prescription is not more willpower—it is more repentance. Not the repentance that brought us to salvation, though that is where it all begins. I mean the daily repentance that is the heartbeat of a glorious and fruitful life. It is a gift of the Holy Spirit drawing our outward person to be transformed—just as Paul described:
“But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord.” 2 Corinthians 3:18
But here is what I have had to learn the hard way: I resist the Holy Spirit.
We can sense the Holy Spirit’s quiet, persistent nudge toward a tender-hearted sorrow over our sin—and the will of the flesh can harden against it. The mind of the flesh can choose the familiar misery of the spiritual pigsty over the Father’s table, embracing the lie that we are better off managing our own lives and being the sovereign of our own small kingdoms. It is the lie satan told Eve—the oldest lie ever told—and the mind of my flesh keeps believing it.
Each day we delay turning back to the sweet fellowship of intimacy with God, we delay the joy He is ready to give us. We do not lose our salvation when we sin, but we do lose something real—the peace, the clarity, the close and unmistakable sense of His presence. Jesus gave the church at Laodicea, a real solution:
“As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten. Therefore be zealous and repent.” Revelation 3:19
God, like a good parent, chastens His children when they get out of line—not to punish them for the sake of retribution; but to bring them back into a close relationship with Him. When I am close to God there is no greater experience in this life! I always want to be there. So, I have been praying a very strange prayer:
“Lord, help me desire Your presence more than I desire sin.”
I need God to strengthen my born-again soul against the pull of the flesh so the will of the flesh can be brought to heel. My friend, God’s presence breaking through in my life is more refreshing than first breath of clean air after a long season of smelling skunk spray. King David understood this. After the most catastrophic moral failure of his life—adultery, deception, the blood of an innocent man on his hands—he did not try to clean himself up before approaching God. He had lived long enough in the wreckage of his own flesh and he prayed:
“Have mercy upon me, O God, according to Your lovingkindness; according to the multitude of Your tender mercies, blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions, and my sin is always before me… Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me away from Your presence, and do not take Your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of Your salvation, and uphold me by Your generous Spirit.” Psalm 51:1–3, 10–12
David asked God to create a new desire. He was reaching toward more of God’s presence—the restored, marvelous, joy-saturated experience of knowing God for who He truly is. Restore to me the joy of Your salvation. He still had it. He was just not experiencing itc. That is what unconfessed sin does to us—trades the breathtaking reality of God’s presence for the grey, suffocating smallness of life in sin.
The Apostle Paul’s praise of the Corinthian church in 2 Corinthians 7 demonstrates what this looks like. These believers had been confronted with hard truth, and instead of becoming defensive or deflated, they let it break them open:
“Now I rejoice, not that you were made sorry, but that your sorrow led to repentance. For you were made sorry in a godly manner… For godly sorrow produces repentance leading to salvation, not to be regretted; but the sorrow of the world produces death. For observe this very thing, that you sorrowed in a godly manner: What diligence it produced in you, what clearing of yourselves, what indignation, what fear, what vehement desire, what zeal, what vindication! In all things you proved yourselves to be clear in this matter.” 2 Corinthians 7:9–11
Genuine repentance in a born again believer produces clarity. A clean, God-directed grief that cleared the air and reset their hearts. That is the difference between the misery of sin left unconfessed and the bright, expanding freedom of a heart turned fully back toward God. That is the kind of repentance I want to walk in—not a reluctant, dragging surrender, but a zealous turning towards the blessed presence of God.
It is impossible to turn toward the light without turning away from the darkness.
Repentance means we turn toward a Father who, like the one in the parable, sees us while we are still a great way off—and runs towards us. Repentance is not cleaning yourself up to get to God. It is turning to God so that He can do what only He can do: cleanse, restore, and renew. Acts 3:19 reminds us that repentance always leads to refreshing:
“Repent therefore and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out, so that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord.”
Times of refreshing!
The deep, wide, marvelous refreshing that comes from living close to God. He is good and faithful and waits for us on the other side of repentance. I want to live there—not in the exhausting, miserable cycle of the flesh, but in the steady, honest, daily practice of saying, “here I am again, Lord, and I desire You more than anything else in my life!”
Prayer: Father, I come to You honest and open and in need of Your mercy. You know the areas of my life where the will of the flesh keeps winning. You know the misery of the cycle. Create in me a clean heart. Strengthen my born-again spirit and soul against the pull of the flesh. Give me a desire for Your presence that is stronger and more alive than anything the mind of the flesh can offer. Let me taste the refreshing that comes from truly knowing You; the bright, marvelous reality of walking close to You. Restore daily to me—the joy of my salvation. In the name of Jesus. Amen.
