Still Struggling Doesn’t Mean You Haven’t Changed

By Pastor John Erickson

I was never the first kid picked when the teams lined up. I was a big kid, but the height did not really arrive until my junior year of high school. Being tall now has improved my draft position a little. Athletic greatness remains a separate question.

There is something vulnerable about standing there waiting to find out whether somebody wants you on their team. I wonder whether we carry a version of that feeling into our relationship with God. We know where we fall short. We have confessed the same thing before. Surely Jesus is looking for somebody a little more impressive.

Then we arrive at the Jordan River in Matthew 3, and Jesus does something surprising.

Good credentials are not the same as a changed heart

John the Baptist is calling people to repent because the kingdom of heaven is near. People confess their sins and come to be baptized. When religious leaders arrive, John refuses to let their credentials settle the matter. Being descended from Abraham does not excuse an unchanged heart.

He calls for fruit in keeping with repentance.

That gets uncomfortably close to home for me. I am a pastor. I am part of the religious establishment. It is easy to read a warning to religious leaders and imagine that God is addressing somebody else. But my title cannot repent for me. Neither can my knowledge of Scripture or my ability to explain it.

Repentance involves turning toward God. John expects that turning to become visible in how people live. The fruit matters.

The difficulty comes when we turn that expectation into a demand that every struggle disappear immediately.

Look for fruit, not a flawless record

Have you ever asked God to forgive you, meant it, and then found yourself facing the same temptation again? It can leave you wondering whether the first prayer counted. Maybe you were not sincere enough. Maybe you do not really love God.

I once had a conversation with someone who was wrestling with that tension between knowing what was right and struggling to live it. The person wondered whether the struggle meant there was no real love for God. But when we considered what life would look like without him, a very different picture emerged. There had been change. There was fruit, even though there was also work left to do.

Sometimes shame makes us so aware of what remains unfinished that we stop noticing what God has already begun.

That does not mean we should rename destructive behavior "growth" and leave it alone. If I am hurting people, I need to stop making excuses, take responsibility, and seek help. Grace does not make the damage imaginary.

But neither does a setback erase every evidence of God's work. Am I becoming more honest? More willing to apologize? More open to correction? Am I asking for help sooner instead of hiding longer?

Those are not reasons to declare the journey finished. They are reasons to keep walking.

Jesus steps into the water

When Jesus comes to John for baptism, John objects. The arrangement seems backward. John needs what Jesus can give; Jesus has no sin to confess.

Yet Jesus asks John to allow it, describing it as fitting to fulfill all righteousness.

Here is the astonishing part: the sinless Son does not keep himself safely distant from the people who need saving. He steps into the water. His baptism belongs to his faithful mission, a mission that will ultimately lead to the cross.

I see in that moment a King willing to identify with his people. He has not come to congratulate us on how well we have managed without him. He has come because we cannot rescue ourselves.

The Father's declaration of love for the Son and the Spirit's descent make this much more than a lesson about trying harder. The hope of the scene is Jesus himself.

Sometimes we approach him as though he were standing on the far side of a line, waiting for us to become good enough to cross it. Matthew gives us a different picture: Jesus coming to the very place where people are admitting their need.

Humility keeps us moving

There are two ways to miss John's call. We can insist we have no need to change, or we can decide that because we still need to change, there is no hope for us.

Both keep our eyes fixed on ourselves.

Humility lets us say, "This needs to change, and I need Jesus to change it." It makes room for confession, practical action, accountability, and gratitude for whatever fruit God is producing.

I do not want a faith that only looks respectable from the outside. I want the inward work that eventually changes what comes out of me.

If you are discouraged today, do not ask only whether you have reached perfection. Ask where you are turning. Ask what you are bringing into the light. Ask what small, real fruit is growing.

Then bring the unfinished parts to Jesus too. You do not have to hide the very need he came to meet.