Day 80 · Saturday, March 21
"Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done."LUKE 22:42
The official voice messages are being prepared. Test recordings have been removed so only approved Scripture audio will be published.
Hello, my friend… so glad you're with me today. This is By God's Call — day 80, Not My Will.
"Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done." Luke 22:42.
Let that settle for a moment. Because what you just heard was not a prayer written in the quiet of a comfortable afternoon. It was a prayer torn from the depths of a man who knew exactly what was coming. It was midnight. The ground in that garden was cold and dark. And the sweat falling from His face was like drops of blood.
What stops me every time I read this verse is this: Jesus did not pretend. He did not arrive before the Father wearing a composed, spiritual face, saying "I'm fine, whatever You want." No. He asked — truly, with everything in Him — for the cup to be taken away. The anguish was real. It was raw. It was right there on the surface, not hidden. And that tells us something foundational about what surrender to God actually looks like: it does not begin with pretending everything is okay. It begins with telling the Father everything. You can come to Him exactly as you are — with the fear, with the resistance, with the question you can't even put into words yet. He can handle your honesty. More than that: He is asking for it.
And then comes that one small word. Just one. "Nevertheless." Everything turns on it. It is the pivot point where human desire bows — not in defeat, but in trust. Jesus was not surrendering to a cold and indifferent fate. He was giving Himself over to a Father. And that changes everything. You can surrender your will because the One receiving it is not a tyrant. He is your Father. The One who knows you by name, who has already seen the end of the story you cannot yet read. Even in that midnight garden, even facing that bitter cup, Jesus prayed "Father." Not "cosmic force." Not "destiny." Father.
And I need you to hear this: your salvation passed through that prayer. The grace that reached you — your life, this very moment you are listening right now — only arrived because Jesus said yes in that garden. Because He held onto that one small word, "nevertheless," He walked through the cross, and what was closed was opened for you. His surrender is what made your freedom possible. So when you are called to surrender your own will, you are not doing something strange or weak or without meaning. You are walking the same road He walked. Forged in the dark. Forged where it costs the most.
And now I want to invite you to do exactly that — not in theory, but today. There is something on your plate right now that you are holding onto too tightly. Maybe it is a decision you do not want to make. A relationship you are trying to control. A fear you have not been able to let go. Name it. Give it a real, specific name. And before breakfast, before you pick up your phone, before you step into the rush of the day — pray over that one thing word for word, the way Jesus prayed: "Not my will, but Yours, be done." Not as a formula. As a real act of trust. As a child placing something heavy into the hands of a Father who is good.
Stay close to God. Pray — then act. I'll see you tomorrow, my friend.