Thy Will Be Done
Reflection on Mathew 6:10
Jesus teaches His disciples to pray, “Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10, ESV). It is a familiar line, often spoken from memory, yet daunting when we pause to consider its full weight.
The prayer assumes something profound: that God’s will, though perfect and complete in heaven, must be sought, discerned, and embodied on earth. It suggests alignment rather than inevitability—participation rather than passivity. And it quietly raises an uncomfortable question: If we are instructed to pray for God’s will to be done, is it possible for that will to be resisted, delayed, or misunderstood in human life?
That question has been pressing on me in recent weeks. When God purposes to act in human affairs—when He decides to move in a particular way—can we resist that movement? And through disobedience, fear, or personal preference, can we, at least for a time, choose our will over His?
I am not interested in settling the age-old debate between Arminianism and Calvinism. My own position here is fairly settled, and I’ve long believed something I was taught years ago: that these frameworks represent two sides of the same coin. Scripture is unmistakably clear—God is fully sovereign. And Scripture is just as clear that human beings possess a real will, one that is capable of resistance.
Otherwise, why would the writer of Hebrews spend so much time warning believers not to drift, but instead to hold fast? Why would Paul express genuine shock in his letter to the Galatians that they had so quickly departed from the gospel he preached? These are not the words of men who believed obedience was automatic or inevitable.
But my thoughts extend beyond this familiar theological tension.
I’ve been wrestling with a broader, more practical question—one that builds directly on themes I explored in my previous post on New Wineskins: Can God’s will be resisted in such a way that opportunities are missed—perhaps even answers to prayer—because His means of provision do not align with our preferences? Not because God failed to act, but because we failed to obey, or failed to recognize or embrace what He was doing.
Scripture gives us sobering examples.
Cain set his heart on murdering his brother Abel. This was clearly not God’s will. God even confronted Cain directly, warning him with remarkable clarity: “Sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is contrary to you, but you must rule over it.” Cain did not. Ruled by his flesh, he committed the first murder recorded in Scripture. God’s purposes were not undone—but Cain’s life, and the lives affected by his sin, were permanently altered.
Consider Israel in the wilderness. God’s will to deliver His people from more than four centuries of bondage in Egypt was unmistakable. The Promised Land was not a vague hope; it was a declared destination. And yet Israel’s persistent unbelief and disobedience added forty years to the journey. Was this delay God’s will—or the consequence of resisting it? God remained faithful to His promise, but an entire generation failed to enter into its fulfillment.
Abraham’s intercession for Lot raises similar questions. Abraham pleaded with God to spare the city from judgment, negotiating boldly on behalf of the righteous. The ultimate outcome did not change, but the timing did—and a rescue mission was initiated. From our limited human perspective, it appears that Abraham influenced God. Yet Scripture also affirms that God is unchangeable. Perhaps what looks like persuasion was, in fact, God drawing Abraham into deeper trust, testing and revealing Abraham’s heart in the process.
Then there is Jeremiah’s well-known promise: “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you.” God’s plan for Israel was resolute and sure. And yet, in perfect justice, He led them into captivity—just as He had warned in Deuteronomy would happen if they broke covenant. Even there, God remained faithful, promising to bless and preserve His people in exile. His purposes were not derailed, but they unfolded through discipline rather than immediate restoration.
Moving into the New Testament, the apostle Paul reminds us that even faithful obedience does not guarantee unhindered paths. “We wanted to come to you—I, Paul, again and again—but Satan hindered us” (1 Thess. 2:18). Sometimes our plans—plans we genuinely believe align with God’s will—are obstructed. We make our plans, and God directs our steps, but Scripture reminds us that we live within a spiritual battle, influenced by powers both good and evil at work in unseen realms.
Paul’s exhortation in Romans 12:2 is instructive: “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.” Discernment is necessary. But discernment is not the same as inevitability. Knowing God’s will does not guarantee our obedience to it—or that His will will be actualized in the way we expect.
Which brings us back to the Lord’s Prayer: “Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” This petition places responsibility alongside trust. The prayers of God’s people are instrumental in the outworking of His will on earth. If that is true, then it is worth asking: Can God’s will be hindered—not defeated, but delayed or diminished—through prayerlessness, disobedience, or fear?
The tension remains.
We are called to discern, to obey, to pray, and to act. And yet, even under the best circumstances—even when our motives are sincere and our theology sound—things do not always unfold according to our understanding of God’s will. This is where trust must take over. We are not called to fully comprehend God’s perfect and pleasing will—only to seek it, submit to it, and pray for its fulfillment.
In the clearest matters, God’s will is revealed plainly through His Word. Commands like “Do not be unequally yoked” and “forgive one another” leave little room for interpretation. But in the particulars—in how God carries out His purposes among nations, churches, and individuals—we are required to walk by faith. God’s sovereignty does not remove our responsibility; it frames it. Our obedience matters, even when pathways and outcomes remain uncertain.
My spirit resonates with the chorus of “You’ve Already Won”:
I’m fighting a battle
That You’ve already won
No matter what comes my way
I will overcome
Don't know what You're doing
But I know what You've done
I'm fighting a battle
You've already won
I want to faithfully follow wherever the Lord leads and not miss out on His perfect and pleasing will—to embrace the new things He is doing and calling me to, while remaining faithful to the things that never change. There is grace in our obedience and grace even in our missteps, whether we veer off course through neglect or happenstance. The Lord is with us always, and on this truth we all depend.
Prayer: Lord Jesus, you taught your disciples to pray, in part, “Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” and reminded them that “your Father knows what you need before you ask him.” Build our faith through prayer. Help us to walk in obedience to your will, and to trust you to guide and direct our steps—especially when the road ahead is dimly lit or unseen. Quell our fears, embolden our faith, and perfect our love for you and for one another, as we—your people—seek your will together.



