Day 2: What You Won’t Let Go Of, Owns You
The rich young ruler did everything right on paper. He ran to Jesus. He knelt. He asked the right question. He’d kept the commandments since childhood, and he meant it. Jesus, we’re told, looked at him and loved him.
Then Jesus asked for the one thing the man had never offered: “Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor… then come, follow me.” His face fell. He walked away grieving, because he had great wealth.
Nothing was wrong with wanting eternal life. Nothing was wrong, on its own, with having money. The problem surfaced the moment Jesus asked him to hold it loosely, and his hand wouldn’t open.
Whatever you named yesterday, same test. The issue was never the size of what he had. It was what he trusted to keep him safe. Paul later called his own credentials and status “garbage” compared to knowing Christ (Philippians 3:7–8), not because they were evil, but because they’d stopped being able to compete with what he’d actually found.
Here’s the mercy in this story that’s easy to miss: Jesus doesn’t chase the man down the road. He lets him walk away sad, still loved, still invited back. Exposing what has a grip on you isn’t Jesus trying to shame you. It’s Jesus trying to free you, because whatever you won’t surrender will eventually run you, and he’d rather you find that out from him than from the thing itself.
REFLECT
- What does the thing you named yesterday give you that you’re afraid Jesus won’t?
- If Jesus asked you for it directly, out loud, today, would your honest first response be yes, or a negotiation?
- Who benefits from you keeping that thing exactly where it is?
GO DEEPER
Return to what you named on Day 1. Finish this sentence in writing, without editing it to sound more spiritual than it is: “I think I’m afraid to let this go because _____________.” Then do one small, specific, physical thing today that loosens your grip on it, not the whole surrender yet, just one real inch.
PRAYER
Lord, you already know what I named yesterday and why I’m holding on. I don’t want to walk away sad like this man did. Give me the honesty to see what I’m actually afraid of losing, and the faith to believe you’re worth more than it is. Amen.