"Why do you think you can do better?" It was an honest question posed to me by my mentor. I suppose it had the potential to be off-putting or offensive, but it wasn't. I instantly knew what he meant. And as much as the question knocked me off-balance, I knew he was onto something important.
There is a common response when it comes to facing sin and failure: "Do better." If we are discontent with our performance? Do better. Unhappy with our lack of spiritual progress? Do better. Stuck in addiction or bad habits? Always late? Disappointing your spouse? Lackluster performance at work? "I need to do better." If there are failures and shortcomings, then the most plausible formulaic response is to do better.
Still, the question caught me off guard. My mentor didn't nod his head and agree with my most recent iteration of "I need to do better." Instead, he confronted it in love. He captured the reality of the Christian life—change is not easy. At times, it is seemingly impossible. If it does happen, it is often slow. Very slow. We may want to change, we may resolve to do better, but I suspect many of us have experienced that it's often not that simple. Perhaps the way of wisdom is not to keep fighting reality, living in the delusion that I can do better when my track record tells me otherwise.
That doesn't mean I do not have the Spirit at work in me, growing me, empowering me—I do. It means that perhaps he does not work in the way or timing that I often prescribe for myself, so these resolutions to "do better" are not transpiring in the way I wanted.
But if we are unable to do better, what then?
My mentor's next words were "We will commit to praying about it."
When we make a commitment to pray for change, we acknowledge that change is hard and slow, that our current tendencies are harder to shake off than we'd like to admit, that we tend to be slow learners and growers. We acknowledge that we need help and wisdom from outside of ourselves to make progress in the ways needed to make our lives, relationships, and work flourish. We acknowledge that it will not be by sheer willpower and determination but by the very Spirit of the living God who will pave a fruitful path forward for us and for those we love.
When we make a commitment to pray for change, we place ourselves in the rightful posture of desperate dependence on the One who can make things right, good, and beautiful—beyond what we could even ask for or imagine with our limited resources and narrow perspectives. We are brought back to the realities of the gospel—that we cannot save ourselves, that we need a Savior, and that our Savior has come. He came to live, die, and live again so that these places of "do better" can be infused with hope despite our inability and repeatedly failed resolutions. We are brought back to the reality so beautifully captured by John Newton—it is grace that has brought us this far and grace that will lead us home.
Are there areas of your life today where you are trying to "do better"? May I ask gently, why do you think you can do better? And when resolve fails and change is hard to come by, will you commit to praying, maybe even with others?
We have a God who cares, hears, and has promised to complete the good work that he has begun in us (Phil 1:6). We have a God who isn't standing at a distance waiting for us to do better, but welcomes us to bring ourselves, as we are—not-any-better—to him. As we commit to prayer, we are unsure of how he will answer. We are not assuming an automatic success story. What we are sure of is that our prayers will be heard and received by our wise and generous Father and that there is true hope in these stuck places of our lives—not in us, but in him.
