Not My Will, But Yours

Gethsemane was a garden at night, and Jesus went there knowing what was coming. Luke tells us He was in such agony that His sweat became like great drops of blood. This is not a calm, polished prayer. It is the prayer of someone in deep distress. And the first thing Jesus asks for is honest: Father, if there is any other way, take this away.

I find that incredibly freeing. Jesus did not pretend to want the cross. He told His Father exactly what He wanted. That means we do not have to fake it either. If you want the relationship to work out, the diagnosis to change, the grad school letter to say yes, you can say so plainly. God is not asking you to hide your desires behind religious language.

But Jesus did not stop there. He added one more word: nevertheless. Not my will, but yours, be done. That word is the hinge of the whole prayer. It does not cancel His honest request. It places it into the hands of a Father He trusted. Surrender, in this prayer, is not giving up on what you want. It is trusting that God's will is good even when it is not the same as yours.

Midterm season has a way of putting a lot of our own wills on the table. Tonight you could try praying in the shape of Gethsemane. First, tell God honestly what you want. Then, when you are ready, add your own nevertheless. It may be the hardest word you pray this week, but it is also the one that brings the deepest peace.