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Romans 7:18–20 “For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.”

Think

It’s one of the most frustrating feelings in the Christian life. You want to live for God. You want to walk in obedience. You want to do good. But no matter how hard you try, you feel like you’re losing ground to the same old patterns. The same anger. The same pride. The same addiction. You get a little momentum, only to fall right back into the fight. It feels exhausting, discouraging, and deeply confusing.

That’s exactly what Paul is describing here. Not just a passing failure, but an ongoing battle. Not a moment of weakness, but a war that seems built into his very nature. “I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out.” This is more than frustration. It’s anguish. It’s the cry of someone who genuinely loves God, but keeps hitting the same wall over and over again.

Paul is making a distinction that’s crucial for understanding this battle. He says that nothing good dwells in his “sinful nature.” Some translations call it “the flesh.” He’s not saying he is incapable of good as a human being, or that his body is evil. He’s naming the part of him that still resists God—the self-centered, prideful, controlling, fear-driven impulses that pull him in the opposite direction of love.

And what makes this so painful is that it’s happening inside a believer. This isn’t pre-salvation Paul. This is the Paul who has seen Jesus, who has preached the gospel, who has surrendered his life to God. Yet still, he feels the tension. He’s not making peace with his sin. He’s not blaming his personality. He’s naming the truth: there’s a war going on inside him.

Most of us don’t like that idea. We prefer things clean and simple. Once we give our lives to Jesus, we want the bad stuff to stop. But Paul shows us that the presence of a battle doesn’t mean the absence of faith. In fact, it’s the opposite. The battle is evidence of the Spirit’s work in you. If there was no war, it would mean sin was winning without resistance. The struggle means you are alive. It means grace is at work.

Think about a tug-of-war rope. One side pulls, and the other side pulls back. If only one side is tugging, the rope just moves without tension. But the moment both sides are active, the rope tightens. That tension is what you feel when you want to obey God and your flesh pushes back. It’s not a sign of failure. It’s the mark of a living faith.

Paul says something important here: “The evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing.” That’s not defeat talking. That’s honesty. That’s someone who isn’t afraid to bring the worst parts of himself into the light. And that’s exactly where healing begins. Not in perfection, but in confession.

So why does God let the war continue? Why not just take the sinful desires away? Sometimes he does bring instant freedom. But more often, he allows the struggle to remain so we will stay close to him. The longer we walk with Jesus, the more we realize that victory doesn’t come from trying harder, but from trusting deeper.

When you recognize that even your best intentions can’t carry you, you stop depending on yourself. You start living from the Spirit, not from your strength. You stop pretending to be strong, and you begin to walk in the power of the One who is.

There’s a kind of humility that only comes from seeing your own weakness. And there’s a kind of worship that rises up when you realize how patient God is with you. He knows about the war inside you. And he doesn’t walk away. He stays. He fights for you. And in Christ, he has already won.

This doesn’t mean we take sin lightly. It means we stop trying to fight it in our own name. The more we try to manage sin on our own, the more it wears us down. The more we bring it to the cross, the more we find mercy and strength.

You may feel torn. You may feel like you’re failing. But if you’re still fighting, you haven’t lost. The Holy Spirit is not surprised by your struggle. He’s committed to your transformation. And day by day, often in quiet, unseen ways, he is making you more like Jesus.

So don’t run from the battle. Don’t give up because of the tension. A war inside you does not mean you are far from God. It means you belong to him, and he is changing you, even when it doesn’t feel like it.

Apply

Think about one area where you’ve felt especially defeated. Instead of pretending it’s not there or beating yourself up over it, bring it to Jesus. Write down a prayer of surrender that simply says, “I can’t change this, but I trust you to keep working in me.” Then spend a few moments thanking God for staying close even when the war inside you feels loud.

Pray

Jesus, I feel the battle inside me. I want to do what is good, but I keep falling short. Thank you that you don’t walk away from the war in me. Thank you that you already won the ultimate victory, and that your Spirit is still fighting for my freedom. Help me depend on you, not myself. Help me keep walking, even when the struggle is real. In Jesus’ name. Amen.