I Know, I Know

Romans 7:14–25

Phrases that spoke to me today:
• I do not understand my own actions
• I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate
• wretched man that I am
• thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord

Applying the Word to My Life:
Paul's frustration echoes through his fellow Christians in all ages — it has certainly stayed with me — not because it is theologically interesting, but because I know exactly what he means.

This is Paul. The greatest missionary of the ancient church, the man who planted communities of faith across the known world. And he cannot figure out why he keeps doing the thing he hates.

The war he describes is structural. He has the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. The good he wants, he does not do. The evil he hates, he keeps doing. It feels like a law — a principle so reliable it operates like gravity. When he wants to do right, evil is close at hand. Not an occasional failure but a pattern he cannot will himself out of, no matter how clearly he sees it.

That pattern is not unique to Paul. I have had versions of this conversation many times, with people who are serious about their faith, who fully understand why sin is wrong, who have helped others work through their failures. And the thing that keeps coming up is that we still end up in the same place. The person who does not have a relationship with God and does not understand — it is easier, in some ways, to see how they get there. But the person who understands exactly what they are doing, who has no excuse, who stands before God with full knowledge — the frustration runs deep.

I am sometimes at confession with the same list as last time. Not because I forgot what was right. The reflection before walking in is often an exercise in recognizing exactly when I knew what I was doing and did it anyway. That is what makes it frustrating. The ignorance defense is not available.

That is the war Paul is naming. Not the serpent's deception — that game ended in the garden. This is full knowledge, clear eyes, and the choice anyway. I know what you want, God. I understand why it is right. I am going to do what I want instead.

The humbling thing is that standing in that place is exactly what gives you something real to offer when someone else is fighting the same war. When I walk with people facing their struggles I don't do it from a distance. You cannot stand in judgment over someone else's failure when you are standing in the same place. The shared frustration brings true compassion.

Paul is the greatest missionary in the early church despite the war he describes with such honesty. He planted communities of faith across the known world, wrote letters that have shaped Christian thought for two thousand years, and died for what he believed. He is a saint. Not because he won the internal war, but because he kept moving, kept proclaiming, and kept going back to God. The same is true for us. Yes, the sin is frustrating. It is not healthy, and it distracts us from the mission. But it does not preclude the relationship. It does not cancel our calling.

Paul does not end on the war. He ends on a question — and then an answer. The answer is not trying harder. It isn't a stronger version of yourself. The same list does not disqualify you. It points you toward God, who can do what you cannot.

The war Paul describes does not resolve through willpower. It resolves through the only One who can win it. The same list brought back again is not the end of the story. It is the beginning of the prayer.

My Response for Today:
Today I will rest in my weakness and bring my list to God.