One of the first requirements in becoming a disciple of Christ is self-denial – forsaking our sins, our pride, our ambitions, our selves – all that we have in the world.

To deny ourselves is to have the mind of Christ "who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross." – Phil 2:6-8

To put it mildly, this is difficult for most of us. An anonymous author has noted:

Many of us struggle with this. Where is the "victorious Christian life" we keep hearing about? We want to be good disciples, and try very hard, but cannot. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. Like Peter, we find ourselves denying our Lord over and over again despite ourselves, and crying bitterly afterwards.

Our selfishness, sins and weaknesses hold us back. Like Gollum, unwilling to give up "My Precious", we find it almost impossible to give up our little secret sins, our ego trips, our wordly ambitions, in order to follow Christ. Like the monkey grasping the peanut with his hand in the jar, we simply cannot see that by letting go of the things which hold us, we will gain our freedom in Christ.

We are hardly alone. St Augustine (AD 345 – 430) – probably the most influential thinker of the early church – tells us, in his autobiographical "Confessions", of how he had kept a series of mistresses for sexual pleasure, and how his slavery to lust almost prevented him from giving himself entirely to God, who had called him to continence (celibacy):

Yet Augustine could not let go. To put it bluntly, the thought of giving up sex for good was unbearable to him.

As he struggled greatly with himself, to surrender his lusts to God, he heard a child’s voice singing "Pick it up, read it. Pick it up, read it." He took this as a divine command to open the Bible, and read the first passage he saw. He did so, and read:

"Instantly," Augustine tells us, "as the sentence ended, there was infused in my heart something like the light of full certainty and all the gloom of doubt vanished away." He later mused:

Please do not get me wrong. I am not saying that we should all become celibate. That calling is for those to whom the gift is given. For the rest of us, "it is better to marry than to burn." While few of us are called to continence as Augustine was, we are ALL called to discipleship and self-denial, to renounce everything we have, to follow Christ.

The point is that even in denying ourselves, we are impotent unless God helps us. We must pray like the father of the epileptic boy: "Lord, I believe; help Thou mine unbelief!" We must realise that we can no more be "good" disciples in our own strength, than we can save ourselves by our own righteousness. We must ask God to give us strength to do what He commands.

The second part of what Augustine said is just as important. We must allow God to exercise His sovereignty in our lives, and command what He will, even as Christ Himself prayed: "Nevertheless, not My will, but Thine be done.". Too many of us, when dealing with God, behave instead like my children, who set conditions for their obedience: "OK, I’ll go brush my teeth if you’ll let me play with the computer."

We echo that attitude when we pray: "OK, God, I’ll pay You ten percent, and I’ll try to be honest, but You must bless my business." This is not discipleship. Discipleship is being able to say, like Job: "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.".

I have discovered a useful practice in the last few months. As I have mentioned before, I wake up at 6 am every morning in order to drive my daughter to school. It has turned out to be a great blessing. The first thing I do in the morning, when I get up groggy-eyed and semi-conscious, is to pray thus: "Lord Jesus, help me."

As I drive, I continue to pray. "Help me to die to myself. Help me not to sin. Help me to do what You want me to do. Help me get the newsletter out. Help me…" I ask unabashedly for God’s help in whichever area of my Christian life He has prompted me to work on at the moment. I rely on Him for everything, and on myself for nothing. It is like the game my kids play when they lean on me with their whole weight, knowing I will support them, and not let them fall. In the same way, I lean on God, knowing that He will not let me down, and I will not fall.

And you know what? Surprise, surprise! God answers my prayers! He gives what He commands. Persistent sins lose their hold on me, temptations lose their power. Pride gives way to humility, selfishness gives way to consideration for others. I find strength to give up my desperate attempts to gain the praise of men, or seek my own pleasure. In their place, the desire to please God grows stronger. It amazes me because I know these things do not come from myself, but from the Holy Spirit within me.

I sometimes wonder why I ever bothered struggling in my own strength. Christ Himself chides me:

Come to Me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you, and learn from Me; for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light. – Matt 11:28-30

His yoke is easy, and His burden is light! What a revelation! When we pray for those things that we know are within God’s will, we can believe that God has already sent these blessings to us, for He is more willing to give than we are to receive. This is called affirmative prayer – believing that we have received what we pray for, because it is within the will of God. Strength to deny ourselves, power over sin and temptation, a closer relationship with God, love for our fellow man – these are all the things we can pray for with the certainty that God will answer with a definite YES!

Yet there is still a struggle, albeit of a different kind. Instead of struggling in my own strength to do what God requires, I constantly struggle to remind myself to lean on God for everything.

As a young Christian, I sometimes nervously joked that I would perhaps be willing to die for Christ, but not suffer for Him, because that would be too painful. The underlying fear I had, was that if I had to choose between confessing Christ or escaping torture, I would, in my weakness, choose the latter. In other words, I doubted that I would ever have the strength to become a martyr for Christ.

You know what? I don’t worry too much about that nowadays. I know for sure, more than ever, that in myself, I don’t have the strength to be a martyr, let alone a good disciple – but that doesn’t matter. It is God who will supply what I need. My only prayer at any time needs to be: "Give what Thou commandest; Command what Thou wilt."