Not My Will, but Yours, Lord

How many of us have unconsciously formed expectations that never came to pass? Most. Sharri Kerkhoff offers a prayer of relinquishment.

Elisa

Not My Will, but Yours, Lord

By Sharri Kerkhoff

I have prayed “Not my will, but yours be done” so many times; but when I became a grandmother, I had a deeper understanding. 

I had plans, you see. Plans for the season of life that everyone told me was pure reward. Plans for using the hard-won wisdom of the parenting years to orchestrate “win-wins” left and right. Plans for the best do-over ever!

Problem is, I wasn’t acknowledging any of those plans. They were there — in the back of my mind, in the bottom of my heart, somewhere in my spirit. They were preconceived notions, hopes, dreams, and never-agains. They did not have dates, times, settings, or names. They did not have anything anyone could hold, touch, point to, or describe. But they were there, waiting for certain moments to arrive.

Enter my first grandchild. He was six hours away by car. (Not part of Mimi K’s plan.) I couldn’t tell anyone he was coming for weeks after I knew of his conception. (Not what Mimi K had imagined.) Then, I could not say he was a he for a while. (Aw, c’mon, man!)

But this was just the start. When he was born, there would be no visits to the hospital, and no telling anyone it had happened for DAYS! Mimi K would not get to hold HER baby boy’s baby boy for the first few weeks while mom and dad settled in. This was not at all what Mimi K had willed to happen.

Enter Mimi K’s longtime friend from across the country. She had buried her only son as an adult a few years prior. While Paula rejoiced across the miles with her friend who was becoming a boy-mom grandmother, she knew the same would never happen for her. Being the uber wise Christian woman she is, she rejoiced publicly and mourned her continued loss privately — until the moment came for her to teach Mimi K something.

She ever-so-gently reminded everyone in their friend group via text of perspective that was desperately needed, but especially by Mimi K. “Some grannies get to be in the room for the delivery,” she said. “Some get to be there a short time later. Some months or years later…or never. … That first moment you hold your grandson … whenever it is … is going to be … I can’t even find the word for it, everything seems too small. Earth changing. YOU are God’s woman for the experience … whatever that looks like.”

Voila! There it was. New understanding of “not my will, but yours be done, Lord.” A  peace washed over me like warm water. Whatever I was expecting, this would be better. And, it truly was! Paula was exactly right. There was no disappointment here. Just blessing. Let it come.

My friend’s wise words also reminded me I had been sharing my disappointment with people who echoed my feelings and supported my grumbling.

I realized I was struggling with entitlement. Sometimes those of us in the older generations may wag our fingers at younger ones, pointing out entitlement and wondering about their audacity. And yet we turn around and model it to them in our own ways — citing age and past sacrifice as the reason. 

How can my adult child follow God’s commandment to “honor your father and mother” if I as a new grandparent am demanding privileges? For in that case, compliance ceases to be honor and becomes acquiescence. The commandment is not “give into your father’s and mother’s preferences and demands.”

Honoring one’s parent was modeled for us flawlessly by God’s own Son. When Jesus was facing his own torture and murder, he asked God to spare him his fate. 

“And He withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, and He knelt down and began to pray, saying, “Father, if You are willing, remove this cup from Me; yet not My will, but Yours be done.” [Now an angel from heaven appeared to Him, strengthening Him. And being in agony, He was praying very fervently; and His sweat became like drops of blood, falling down upon the ground].” Luke 22:41-44

He was committed to our Father’s will and not his. He was committed to being the perfect living sacrifice for me and for you. And because of that, he saved mankind.

What does our Creator have in store for us if we are able to set aside what we think we are entitled to and accept his will for us? How do we discern what that is when we can’t even acknowledge our own will most of the time?

This is why we talk to him. This is why we seek out wise friends who model listening to God. This is why we read continually about him in the text he sent for us to get to know who he is. This is why we pray repeatedly, “not my will, but yours, be done, Lord.”

Sharri Kerkhoff is a Midwest farmer’s-daughter-turned-journalist from the last century (just ask her Gen Z children). She intentionally diminished her professional journalistic role as she parented two neurologically spicy and talented children with chronic illness. She stumbled into writing five plays and countless skits for the church stage, became a published lyricist, and created practical training for women’s ministry leaders. Women, especially mothers, have Sharri's whole heart. She still lives in the middle of corn fields in a flyover state with her husband, Harrell. They celebrated the birth of their first grandchild in early 2025.