As I’ve grown older, my appreciation for the sovereignty of God has grown. There are so many details in life that I can’t control; I’m thankful that I know a God who can. My two little daughters’ growth and safety, the tires on my car staying inflated, my heart beating – there is a never-ending list of all the details, big and small, that keep my world turning.

I’ve always had a sense of God’s hand in my conversion. Scripture is so crystal clear on His saving of an utterly dead me. It’s not the focus of this post, but Ephesians 2 says it well: “and you were cold-, stone-, rotting-dead” (my adjectives), but then God “made us alive together with Christ.” Though many do struggle with election, my status prior to God’s regenerative work in me has never seemed to be in question. Dead, and thus unable.

What I did fall into for many years was a pushing aside of His sovereignty – and thus, my utter dependence on Him – in the rest of my Christian life, post-conversion. I fell right into moral self-determinism (hmm… is that a word?), meaning that I thanked God for clearing my sin and saving my soul and went about the work of being as good as I could, having a dependable character with which I could stand before my God.

When I sinned, I urged myself to try harder, because sin’s power had been broken and I simply needed now to apply effort, and I could be an overcomer. I could have victory.

“Jesus, I can follow you!” I was saying. “You’ve saved me, I know I can! I’ll try harder! I’ll prove myself to you!”

I realize now that I sound a bit like Peter in Luke 22:34: “With you, Jesus, I am ready for prison and death!” Right, Peter. Genuine intentions, heartfelt attitude, wrong object of faith. We all know the story – Jesus tells Peter he’ll deny Christ three times, and Peter proceeds to do just that.

Peter – though a believer – was trusting in his effort and his sincerity and his character, and not trusting entirely in Christ.

It takes that failure, that horrible sin of Peter’s threefold, emphatic denial of Christ, to drive home his inability, his own lack of character, his utter dependence on Christ for the day-by-day, moment-by-moment living he will do on earth. Even as a believer, he slipped into pride so quickly.

I wonder if my failure, my sin, is allowed by my sovereign God to help me learn, to teach me that my only hope is in Christ. That seems to be what is going on in Luke 22. Jesus prays for Peter – but what the Lord prays is not protection for Peter, that he won’t fail or sin. Rather, He prays that Peter’s faith won’t fail in the midst of his sin. This is God’s Son praying – it is a sure thing. So Christ tells Peter, “When you return…” Wow. Sovereign God, allowing Peter’s failure, keeping Peter’s faith through it by the power of prayer.

Jesus doesn’t just do that for Peter. He is constantly praying for me – after salvation. Hebrews 7:25 says of our High Priest, “He is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through Him, since He always lives to make intercession for them.”

That’s my Savior. Able to save to the uttermost. Even through failure and sin. Because, like with Peter, Christ is making intercession for my faith, that it may not fail.

I am so dependent, moment by moment, on the intercession of my Savior. May I truly learn that this day, this month, this year as I enjoy the blessings of His grace. Only by faith. Only by grace.

For more on this whole topic, I really recommend a fantastic little book called When We Get It Wrong, by Dominic Smart. He goes into discipleship through the life of Peter, and it has really stimulated me to lean on my Savior in my life-learning of Him. That’s not to imply that I don’t strive with great effort at obedience — but my security is found not in my character or perceived strength, but in the steadfast surety of my Savior’s prayers.