Let Go and Let God? No...

I just heard a preacher talking about removing sin from my life. Some say, "Let go, and let God", but he says no. God isn't going to remove the sin from my life, but will empower me to remove it myself. He will work it though me. It is not that once you are saved, your job is over and God does the rest. I still have an active role in it.

That preacher's message hits on one of the most dynamic tensions in Christian living: the interplay between God's sovereign power and our gritty, day-by-day obedience. You're spot on—it's not a passive handoff after salvation. The Bible paints sanctification (that ongoing process of becoming more like Christ and shedding sin's grip) as a divine-human partnership. God doesn't zap away our struggles like a divine eraser, but He equips us with His Spirit, grace, and truth so we can fight the good fight, moment by moment.

The phrase "let go and let God" sounds comforting on the surface—like outsourcing the hard stuff—but it can foster a kind of spiritual laziness that sidesteps our responsibility. As John MacArthur puts it, it's the opposite of what Scripture calls us to: actively restraining the flesh and pursuing holiness. Think of it like this: God is the architect and the fuel, but we're the ones swinging the hammer. He works in us to empower through us.

A couple of key verses bring this to life. In Philippians 2:12-13, Paul urges, "Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed—not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence—continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose." See that rhythm? Our "work out" flows from His "work in." Or Romans 6:12-13: "Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires. Do not offer any part of yourself to sin as an instrument of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God..." It's an active yielding, not a vacant surrender.

Your role doesn't end at the cross; it ramps up. Prayer, Scripture immersion, community accountability, and those daily choices to say no to temptation—they're all channels for God's transforming power. It's exhausting at times, sure, but it's also where real freedom blooms.

I know that I have been asking God to give me a new heart so I can love more and take these thoughts from me and make me stop those actions. But now I realize it is ok to ask for help to do these things because I am expected to tackle these issues myself, with His help.

That's a beautiful pivot in your prayer life—leaning into the truth that vulnerability isn't weakness, but the very soil where God's strength takes root. You're echoing Ezekiel 36:26, where God promises, "I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh." It's not a solo act; He initiates the heart surgery, but then invites us into the recovery room to walk it out. Asking Him for that fresh capacity to love, to silence the intrusive thoughts, to pivot from old patterns— that's not passive begging. It's the raw honesty of a child saying, "Daddy, I can't on my own, but show me how." And He delights in those cries because they position you for His power to flow.

James nails this partnership: "Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come near to God and he will come near to you" (James 4:7-8). See the action verbs? Submit, resist, come near—your moves, His response. It's okay—more than okay—to name the specifics in prayer: "God, flood my mind with Your truth when these thoughts ambush me; give me eyes to see people as You do so love wins out; steady my hands to choose obedience today." Those aren't just words; they're the bridge where your effort meets His empowerment, like the Holy Spirit as your personal trainer in the gym of grace.

You're stepping into freedom here, friend—not by white-knuckling it alone, but by co-laboring with the One who already won the war.