Holiness, Temptation, Weakness and the Grace That Sometimes Stands Between Us and What We Were About to Do
Pastor Francis Madojemu
I came home from church deeply moved.
Holiness had ceased to be merely a theological word.
It had become personal.
I am His.
That was the revelation that remained with me.
I belong to Him.
I have been set apart for Him.
There had been worship. There had been sober reflection. There had been moments when we lifted our hands. There had been tears. There had been the awareness that holiness is not primarily about religious appearances but about belonging wholly to God.
And I meant it.
That is what made what happened next so disturbing.
Within twenty-four hours, I found myself confronted with temptation.
Not an abstract temptation.
Not something I could discuss dispassionately from a pulpit.
Something real.
Something attractive.
Something I knew was wrong.
And then came the part that frightened me most:
I began making plans.
This was no longer merely a thought knocking at the door.
Somewhere between desire and decision, I had begun moving towards something I knew I should not do.
And then something happened.
The circumstances changed.
The opportunity disappeared.
What I had contemplated doing became impossible—or at least was interrupted before I carried it through.
And afterward I was left with a deeply uncomfortable question:
What just happened?
Was I really serious about holiness only twenty-four hours earlier?
Were the tears meaningless?
Was the consecration emotional?
Was I a hypocrite?
Or was I discovering something about holiness that I had not properly understood before?
Perhaps holiness is not only about our determination to belong to God.
Perhaps holiness is also about God’s determination to keep those who belong to Him.
I THOUGHT HOLINESS MEANT I WOULD BE STRONGER
There is an assumption that can quietly enter Christian thinking.
We imagine that spiritual maturity eventually brings us to a place where certain temptations become almost irrelevant.
We hear powerful preaching.
We make decisions.
We pray.
We fast.
We consecrate ourselves.
We say sincerely:
“Lord, I am Yours.”
And somewhere underneath that confession can sit another assumption:
Now I will be strong enough.
But Scripture gives us a considerably more humbling picture of human beings.
Jesus said to His disciples:
“Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.”
— Matthew 26:41
Notice those two realities standing together.
The spirit is willing.
The flesh is weak.
Jesus does not say the willing spirit is necessarily fraudulent because weakness exists.
A person may sincerely desire God and still discover frightening vulnerabilities within himself.
A person may truly say,
“I want to obey God,”
and shortly afterward discover,
“There is also something in me capable of wanting something completely contrary to what I just declared.”
That is sobering.
But it is biblical.
And perhaps one of the first lessons of holiness is therefore not:
Look how strong I have become.
But:
Lord, now I understand how desperately I need You.
“I ALSO WITHHELD THEE FROM SINNING AGAINST ME”
There is an extraordinary statement in Genesis that I had not sufficiently appreciated.
Abraham had told Abimelech that Sarah was his sister.
Abimelech took Sarah.
But before he slept with her, God intervened.
God appeared to him in a dream.
And then God explained something remarkable:
“I also withheld thee from sinning against me.”
— Genesis 20:6 KJV (Bible Gateway)
Think about those words.
Abimelech could truthfully say:
“I didn’t do it.”
But God could truthfully say:
“You didn’t do it because I stopped you.”
God did not merely command him not to sin.
God intervened in circumstances so that the intended act did not occur.
There is therefore a biblical category that we do not talk about enough.
Sometimes God does not merely forgive sin.
Sometimes God prevents sin.
Sometimes grace does not meet us after the crash.
Sometimes grace puts something across the road.
DAVID HAD ALREADY MADE THE PLAN
Then I found an even more uncomfortable story.
David.
Before he was king, David and his men had protected the shepherds and property of a wealthy man named Nabal.
When David later requested provisions, Nabal insulted him.
David was furious.
This was not fleeting irritation.
David made a decision.
He armed his men.
He announced what he intended to do.
And he began travelling towards Nabal’s house.
David was going to kill him.
This is important.
The sin was no longer merely in David’s imagination.
He had formed the intention.
He had assembled the means.
He was moving towards the act.
Then Abigail appeared.
Nabal’s wife heard what had happened, gathered provisions, went out to intercept David and pleaded with him not to avenge himself.
David stopped.
And then David said something astonishing:
“Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, which sent thee this day to meet me.”
He understood Abigail’s arrival as providence.
Then he acknowledged that she had kept him from bloodshed.
And finally he described God Himself as the One who had “kept me back.” (Bible Gateway)
David effectively said:
I was going to do it.
I had decided to do it.
I was on my way to do it.
And God put somebody in my path.
That changes the conversation.
Sometimes holiness looks like heroic resistance before the temptation gets close.
But sometimes holiness looks considerably less heroic:
God sent Abigail.
And if Abigail had not appeared?
David himself tells us what would have happened.
That is humility.
SOMETIMES THE WAY OF ESCAPE LOOKS LIKE AN INTERRUPTION
Paul writes:
“Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall.”
Then immediately:
“God is faithful…”
And Paul says that with the temptation God will also provide a way of escape.
— 1 Corinthians 10:12–13
I used to hear that passage mainly as an instruction about my strength:
There is always a way out. Find it.
That is certainly part of our responsibility.
But Paul’s emphasis begins elsewhere:
God is faithful.
My confidence is not ultimately:
Francis is faithful.
My confidence is:
God is faithful.
And perhaps the “way of escape” does not always look dramatic.
Sometimes a telephone rings.
Someone walks into the room.
A journey is cancelled.
Money does not arrive.
A meeting does not happen.
A relationship unexpectedly changes.
Someone like Abigail gets in the way.
A door that was open suddenly closes.
We must be careful here.
We cannot label every inconvenient circumstance a supernatural intervention. Scripture gives us no permission to invent divine explanations for everything that happens.
But Scripture unquestionably gives us the category.
God told Abimelech:
I stopped you. (Bible Gateway)
David said:
God sent Abigail and kept me back. (Bible Gateway)
There are moments when what looks like an interruption may actually become mercy.
LABAN: “IT IS IN THE POWER OF MY HAND…”
Jacob gives us another example.
Jacob left Laban’s household with his wives, children and possessions.
Laban pursued him.
For seven days he chased him until he finally caught up.
But before Laban reached Jacob, God visited Laban in a dream and warned him concerning Jacob. (Bible Gateway)
Later Laban makes a revealing admission.
He effectively tells Jacob:
I have the power to hurt you.
But then he tells him that the God of Jacob’s father had spoken to him during the night.
The capacity remained.
The opportunity remained.
Perhaps even the anger remained.
But God stepped between Jacob and the man pursuing him.
Psalm 105 later describes this pattern in Israel’s history:
God did not permit others to destroy His people; He even rebuked kings on their behalf. (Bible Gateway)
Sometimes the person being kept does not even know what has been prevented.
That thought alone should produce enormous humility.
How many things do we congratulate ourselves for surviving when heaven knows what God prevented?
How many roads did we never travel?
How many conversations never happened?
How many opportunities disappeared?
How many Labans were spoken to during the night?
“SIMON, SIMON…”
But then Jesus takes this subject somewhere deeper.
On the night before His crucifixion, He turns to Peter:
“Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat…”
Then:
“But I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not.”
— Luke 22:31–32 KJV (Bible Gateway)
This fascinates me because Jesus does not say:
“Peter, I prayed that you wouldn’t deny Me.”
Peter still denied Him.
Three times.
Jesus’ prayer did not mean Peter would never stumble.
Jesus prayed for something deeper:
that Peter’s faith would not finally fail.
Then Jesus said:
“When thou art converted…”
Or, as other translations render the sense:
when you have turned back.
Jesus was already looking beyond Peter’s failure to Peter’s restoration. (Bible Gateway)
That means God’s keeping operates in more than one way.
Sometimes He keeps us from the act.
Abimelech.
David.
Sometimes He keeps us when danger comes against us.
Jacob.
And sometimes He keeps us through our failure, refusing to allow the failure to become our final identity.
Peter.
That may be one of the most beautiful dimensions of grace.
JESUS IS STILL PRAYING ABOUT KEEPING
In John 17, shortly before the cross, Jesus prays for His disciples.
His prayer is striking.
He does not ask the Father to remove them from the world.
He asks:
“Holy Father, keep…”
And later:
keep them from evil. (Bible Gateway)
Think about the implications.
Jesus knew what kind of world He was leaving them in.
He knew their weaknesses.
He knew Satan existed.
He knew persecution was coming.
He knew temptation was coming.
He knew Peter better than Peter knew Peter.
And His prayer was:
Father, keep them.
Holiness therefore cannot merely mean:
I have set myself apart for God.
It must also include:
I need God to preserve what has been set apart.
ANOTHER STORY I HAVE NEVER FORGOTTEN
Many years ago, somebody told me a story that has remained with me.
It concerned a well-known minister who had travelled to the United States to speak at a church conference.
A woman had been assigned as part of the protocol team looking after him.
She was mature, confident and strikingly attractive.
Throughout the conference she attended to the ordinary responsibilities of hospitality—transportation, logistics and making sure the guest minister was cared for.
Nothing unusual.
Until the final day.
She accompanied him back to where he was staying.
And suddenly the atmosphere changed.
The woman told him plainly that she was attracted to him.
Then she made an extraordinary proposition.
She offered herself to him sexually.
Not coyly.
Not ambiguously.
Directly.
She told him, in effect, that she would give him an experience his wife could not give him.
Imagine the silence after a statement like that.
A man of God.
A conference speaker.
A married man.
A Bible teacher.
Surely this is the point in the story where the preacher heroically announces:
“Get behind me, Satan!”
But that is not what I was told happened.
The minister knew something frightening about himself.
He wanted her.
He asked for a moment and went into the bathroom.
Not because he had conquered the temptation.
Because he had not.
He telephoned his wife.
And what he told her was painfully honest.
In substance:
“If God does not help me, when I leave this bathroom I am going to sleep with this woman.”
No spiritual bravado.
No pastoral image management.
No:
“Don’t worry, honey. I have this under control.”
He was saying:
I do not have this under control.
His wife prayed with him.
She asked God to intervene.
Then he came out.
And according to the story as it was told to me, something unexpected happened medically to the woman that immediately ended the encounter and caused her to leave.
I cannot independently verify every detail of a story told to me many years ago, and I would not build doctrine upon the unusual circumstance itself.
But I have never forgotten the man’s confession:
If God doesn’t help me, I am going to do this.
Years later I understand that sentence differently.
Perhaps it was not the confession of a man without holiness.
Perhaps it was the confession of a man who finally understood where holiness comes from.
“KEEP BACK THY SERVANT”
David understood this.
Psalm 19 contains one of the most honest prayers a human being can pray:
“Keep back thy servant also from presumptuous sins.”
— Psalm 19:13
David does not merely say:
Forgive me afterward.
He says:
Stop me beforehand.
Keep me back.
Restrain me.
Do not let this thing gain dominion over me.
Perhaps we should recover that prayer.
There are sins from which we need forgiveness.
But there are also sins from which we should desperately ask for prevention.
Father, don’t let me get there.
Interrupt me.
Expose it.
Send Abigail.
Close the door.
Change my plans.
Wake somebody up.
Let somebody call me.
Make me uncomfortable.
Do whatever You must do to keep me from dishonouring You.
That is not weakness masquerading as spirituality.
It is recognition of weakness.
THE DANGEROUS SENTENCE: “I WOULD NEVER…”
Paul says:
“Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall.”
There is a kind of spiritual confidence that is actually dangerous.
“I would never commit adultery.”
“I would never steal.”
“I would never become addicted.”
“I would never betray my marriage.”
“I would never compromise the ministry.”
Maybe.
But Scripture invites us to replace:
“I would never…”
with:
“By the grace of God, keep me.”
The mature believer may not be the person most convinced of his own immunity.
He may be the person most aware of his dependence.
HOLINESS IS NOT SELF-SUFFICIENCY
This changes how I now understand the language of being set apart.
If I am His, that does not mean I have become independently capable of preserving myself.
A valuable possession can belong completely to someone and still require careful keeping.
The New Testament repeatedly uses this language.
Peter describes believers as those who are:
“kept by the power of God through faith…”
— 1 Peter 1:5 KJV (Bible Gateway)
Paul says:
“The Lord is faithful…”
and describes Him as the One who establishes and keeps His people from evil. (Bible Gateway)
Jude closes with praise to:
“Him that is able to keep you from falling.”
This is holiness without boasting.
I belong to Him.
And:
I need Him to keep what belongs to Him.
BUT GRACE DOES NOT MEAN STAYING IN THE ROOM
There is an essential warning here.
The doctrine of God’s keeping can be dangerously abused.
Someone may say:
“Well, if God doesn’t want me to sin, He will stop me.”
No.
Scripture never allows divine sovereignty to become an excuse for human irresponsibility.
Paul tells Timothy:
“Flee also youthful lusts.”
Not study them.
Not prove you are strong enough to stand beside them.
Not repeatedly place yourself in the circumstances that produce them.
Flee.
Joseph did this literally.
When Potiphar’s wife grabbed his garment, Joseph did not remain in the room to demonstrate spiritual maturity.
He ran.
The God who keeps us also tells us:
Run.
So grace and responsibility meet.
I pray:
“Keep me.”
And when God shows me the door:
I take it.
I cannot keep praying for deliverance from a pathway I deliberately refuse to close.
HOLINESS BECOMES REAL AT THE POINT OF CHOICE
This brings me back to what we have been learning about holiness.
We can cry.
We can kneel.
We can raise our hands.
We can sing:
“I surrender all.”
And every moment of that may be completely sincere.
But eventually consecration meets a decision.
The worship moment says:
“Lord, I am Yours.”
Then temptation asks:
“Did you mean it?”
Dr. Tunde Adegbola’s emphasis on choices becomes especially important here.
Holiness does not remain in the sanctuary.
It follows us home.
It enters the hotel room.
It sits beside the telephone.
It enters our relationships.
It follows the browser.
It sees the bank account.
It walks into the office.
It enters the private conversation.
It is there when nobody who heard our sermon is watching.
And sometimes, at precisely that moment, we discover:
I am not nearly as strong as I thought I was.
Perhaps that discovery itself can become grace.
Because now I can stop trusting the wrong person.
Me.
MAYBE THAT IS WHAT HAPPENED TO ME
So I return to those twenty-four hours after worship.
Was everything I had experienced the previous day false?
I don’t believe so.
I believe I meant it when I said:
I am His.
But perhaps within twenty-four hours God allowed me to discover how utterly dependent that statement makes me.
I am His.
Therefore I need Him.
I am set apart.
Therefore:
Father, keep what has been set apart.
I made plans I should not have made.
I found myself moving towards something I knew was contrary to the very holiness I had been contemplating.
And then the circumstances changed.
I was prevented.
Can I prove precisely how providence operated in that particular moment?
No.
I should be careful not to claim knowledge God has not given me.
But Scripture allows me to say something else with complete confidence:
There is a God who keeps people back.
He did it with Abimelech. (Bible Gateway)
He intervened with Laban. (Bible Gateway)
David believed God sent Abigail to stop him from carrying out the violence he had already planned. (Bible Gateway)
Jesus prayed that Peter’s faith would survive the sifting that Peter himself underestimated. (Bible Gateway)
Jesus prayed for His disciples to be kept. (Bible Gateway)
Peter says we are kept by God’s power. (Bible Gateway)
Paul says the Lord is faithful and will establish and keep His people. (Bible Gateway)
And Jude says He is able to keep us from falling.
So perhaps my response should not simply be shame.
Perhaps my response should be gratitude.
And fear.
And humility.
And stronger boundaries.
And deeper dependence.
I DON’T WANT TO BE A HYPOCRITE
One of the questions I have had to ask myself is whether I can stand before people and teach holiness while confronting these realities in myself.
I do not want to preach something publicly that I am secretly unwilling to live.
But perhaps hypocrisy would be something different.
Hypocrisy would be standing before people and creating the impression:
“People like me have moved beyond struggles like yours.”
When I know that is not true.
A biblical theology of holiness allows me to stand somewhere else entirely.
Not above the congregation.
Among them.
And say:
“I have discovered how desperately the God who calls us holy must also keep us holy.”
The preacher needs the Keeper.
The worship leader needs the Keeper.
The husband needs the Keeper.
The wife needs the Keeper.
The young believer needs the Keeper.
The person who has walked with God for fifty years needs the Keeper.
We never graduate from:
“Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”
THE GOD WHO KEEPS US
Perhaps holiness has two great movements.
The first is ours:
I give myself to You.
The second is His:
I will keep you.
And between those two movements lies the Christian life.
Consecration.
Watchfulness.
Prayer.
Flight.
Community.
Boundaries.
Providence.
Grace.
And when we stand at the end, perhaps none of us will be able to look back and say:
“Look how strong I was.”
Perhaps we will discover thousands of moments we never even knew about when God stood between us and destruction.
Doors He closed.
People He sent.
Plans He frustrated.
Warnings He gave.
Prayers someone prayed.
Temptations from which He provided escape.
And even failures through which He refused to let our faith finally die.
Then perhaps holiness will end where worship began.
Not with admiration of ourselves.
But with wonder at Him.
The God who called us.
The God to whom we belong.
The God who is faithful.
The God who keeps us.
And perhaps one of the holiest prayers we will ever learn to pray is also one of the simplest:
Father, I am Yours.
Please keep me.
Pastor Francis E. Madojemu
POSTSCRIPT
THE LORD IS YOUR KEEPER
There is one more thing.
Perhaps the subject is bigger than temptation.
As I continued to look through Scripture, I began to notice that the Bible does not merely describe God as the One who occasionally intervenes to keep us from committing a particular sin.
It gives Him a much larger name.
“The LORD is thy keeper.”
— Psalm 121:5 KJV
Not merely:
God kept me that day.
But:
God is my Keeper.
And once we see that, an extraordinary pattern begins to emerge across Scripture.
HE KEEPS US FROM EVIL
The psalmist says:
“The LORD shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul.”
— Psalm 121:7 KJV
Then immediately:
“The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.”
— Psalm 121:8 KJV
This is much bigger than one moment of temptation.
The language covers life.
Going out.
Coming in.
The soul.
The journey.
Today.
Tomorrow.
Forevermore.
The Christian life is therefore not simply a succession of moments in which we somehow manage to make correct decisions.
There is a Keeper accompanying the journey. (Bible Gateway)
HE KEEPS US IN TROUBLE
David says:
“Thou art my hiding place; thou shalt preserve me from trouble.”
— Psalm 32:7 KJV
Notice that Scripture does not promise a life in which trouble never appears.
David had plenty of trouble.
But trouble does not mean we have left the territory of God’s keeping.
Sometimes He keeps us from trouble.
Sometimes He keeps us through trouble.
Sometimes He hides us while trouble passes around us.
And sometimes He brings us through something that should have destroyed us. (Bible Gateway)
HE KEEPS US FROM PEOPLE WHO INTEND EVIL
The psalmist prays:
“Keep me, O LORD, from the hands of the wicked; preserve me from the violent man.”
— Psalm 140:4 KJV
That takes us back to Jacob and Laban.
Sometimes the danger is not something inside us.
Sometimes it is coming towards us.
Someone else’s intention.
Someone else’s anger.
Someone else’s plan.
Someone else’s power.
And God is able to intervene there too.
There may be things from which God has already kept us that we will never know occurred.
There may be conversations we never heard.
Decisions that were changed.
Plans against us that never matured.
Doors that never opened for people who intended harm.
We should therefore be careful about assuming that everything we survived was because we saw the danger and handled it well.
Sometimes the Keeper saw what we never saw. (Bible Gateway)
HE KEEPS US WHEN WE STUMBLE
Psalm 37 gives us another beautiful picture:
“Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down: for the LORD upholdeth him with his hand.”
— Psalm 37:24 KJV
That is different again.
Here God does not prevent every stumble.
The man actually falls.
But the fall is not final.
He is not utterly cast down.
Why?
Not because he has suddenly discovered enormous strength.
Because:
“The LORD upholdeth him with his hand.” (Bible Gateway)
That helps us understand Peter.
Peter fell.
Jesus did not keep Peter from every wrong decision.
Peter denied Him.
But Jesus had already said:
“I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not.”
The Keeper was working at a deeper level than Peter could see.
Peter’s courage failed.
Peter’s confession failed.
Peter’s behaviour failed.
But Peter himself was not abandoned.
There is a difference between falling and being finally lost in the fall.
HE KEEPS OUR FAITH
Peter himself would later write to believers:
“Who are kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation…”
— 1 Peter 1:5 KJV
What a statement for Peter to write.
The man Jesus once told, “I have prayed for you,” eventually teaches the Church:
You are kept by God’s power.
Not merely initiated by God’s power.
Not merely forgiven by God’s power.
Kept.
There is divine power operating in the continuing life of the believer. (Bible Gateway)
HE KEEPS US IN HIS HAND
Jesus gives us perhaps the most tender picture of all:
“Neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand.”
And then He says of the Father:
“No man is able to pluck them out of my Father’s hand.”
— John 10:28–29 KJV
Think about the imagery.
His hand.
The Father’s hand.
The Christian life is not ultimately the picture of a frightened believer desperately holding God’s wrist and hoping his fingers do not slip.
Jesus describes the believer as being held.
That does not remove responsibility.
His sheep hear His voice.
They follow Him.
But underneath our following is His holding. (Bible Gateway)
HE KEEPS US TOWARDS A DESTINATION
Paul, near the end of his life, says:
“The Lord shall deliver me from every evil work, and will preserve me unto his heavenly kingdom.”
— 2 Timothy 4:18 KJV
This gives God’s keeping a destination.
He is not merely keeping us so that we can survive today’s difficulty.
He is keeping us unto something.
His kingdom.
His purpose.
His conclusion.
His presence.
That is why Jude can end his letter with one of the greatest doxologies in Scripture:
“Now unto him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy…”
— Jude 24 KJV
Look where God’s keeping ends.
In His presence.
With joy. (Bible Gateway)
SO HOW DOES GOD KEEP US?
Perhaps that is the wrong question if by it we mean:
“God, tell me beforehand which method You are going to use.”
We do not get to prescribe the method.
Sometimes He warns.
Sometimes He restrains.
Sometimes He sends an Abigail.
Sometimes He speaks to a Laban.
Sometimes He provides an escape.
Sometimes He gives strength to say no.
Sometimes He tells us to run.
Sometimes He uses another believer.
Sometimes He closes a door.
Sometimes He upholds us after we stumble.
Sometimes Christ intercedes for us while something we do not even understand is happening.
Sometimes He simply holds us.
And perhaps sometimes we will only discover in eternity how often we were kept.
The issue is not choosing the method.
The issue is knowing:
I have a Keeper.
AND THAT REQUIRES ANOTHER KIND OF HONESTY
Perhaps some of us need to stop pretending that there are areas in which we are stronger than we really are.
There are weaknesses we know about.
There are appetites we know about.
There are environments in which our judgement changes.
There are relationships around which our discernment becomes weaker.
There are things which, if the circumstances were arranged correctly—or incorrectly—we are capable of doing.
Holiness does not require us to lie about that.
It requires us to bring it into the light before God.
There is an enormous difference between saying:
“This weakness exists.”
and saying:
“Therefore this weakness must rule me.”
It does not have to rule you.
David prayed:
“Let them not have dominion over me.”
We can acknowledge vulnerability without surrendering authority to it.
PERHAPS THIS IS OUR PRAYER
So before we go any further in this journey into holiness, perhaps there is something we should receive.
Not merely another instruction.
Grace.
Grace to obey.
Grace to flee.
Grace to recognize the way of escape.
Grace to accept correction.
Grace to receive an Abigail without resenting her.
Grace to hear God’s warning.
Grace to establish boundaries before the next temptation arrives.
Grace to call somebody when our strength is disappearing.
Grace to get out of the room.
Grace to stand.
And when we have stumbled, grace to get up again because the hand of God is still underneath us.
We do not have to tell God how to keep us.
We can simply give Him permission to deal honestly with us.
Perhaps we can pray:
Father, I acknowledge that I am not as strong as I sometimes imagine.
You know me better than I know myself.
You know where I am strong.
You know where I am vulnerable.
You know what attracts me.
You know the circumstances in which my judgement becomes weak.
I belong to You.
So keep me.
Keep me from evil.
Keep me from presumptuous sin.
Keep me from people and circumstances that would destroy Your purpose in me.
Keep my faith when I am being sifted.
When I need to run, give me grace to run.
When I need strength, strengthen me.
When I need an Abigail, send one—and give me humility to listen.
When a door needs to close, close it.
When I stumble, uphold me with Your hand.
When I cannot see the danger, be my Keeper.
Preserve my going out and my coming in.
Keep what I have committed to You.
Keep me by Your power.
And continue Your work in me until You present me before Your presence with joy.
I am Yours.
Teach me holiness.
Give me the grace necessary to walk in it.
And Father—please keep me.
Amen.
