15 Dec Why is it hard for you to surrender to God?

2 Kings 5:1-14

Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Syria, was a great man with his master and in high favor, because by him the Lord had given victory to Syria. He was a mighty man of valor, but he was a leper.^[a] 2 Now the Syrians on one of their raids had carried off a little girl from the land of Israel, and she worked in the service of Naaman’s wife. ³ She said to her mistress, “Would that my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.” ⁴ So Naaman went in and told his lord, “Thus and so spoke the girl from the land of Israel.” ⁵ And the king of Syria said, “Go now, and I will send a letter to the king of Israel.”

So he went, taking with him ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels^[b] of gold, and ten changes of clothing. ⁶ And he brought the letter to the king of Israel, which read, “When this letter reaches you, know that I have sent to you Naaman my servant, that you may cure him of his leprosy.” ⁷ And when the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his clothes and said, “Am I God, to kill and to make alive, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his leprosy? Only consider, and see how he is seeking a quarrel with me.”

⁸ But when Elisha the man of God heard that the king of Israel had torn his clothes, he sent to the king, saying, “Why have you torn your clothes? Let him come now to me, that he may know that there is a prophet in Israel.” ⁹ So Naaman came with his horses and chariots and stood at the door of Elisha’s house. ¹⁰ And Elisha sent a messenger to him, saying, “Go and wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored, and you shall be clean.” ¹¹ But Naaman was angry and went away, saying, “Behold, I thought that he would surely come out to me and stand and call upon the name of the Lord his God, and wave his hand over the place and cure the leper. ¹² Are not Abana^[c] and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them and be clean?” So he turned and went away in a rage. ¹³ But his servants came near and said to him, “My father, it is a great word the prophet has spoken to you; will you not do it? Has he actually said to you, ‘Wash, and be clean’?” ¹⁴ So he went down and dipped himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God, and his flesh was restored like the flesh of a little child, and he was clean.

Introduction

Have you ever been in a conversation where you receive a compliment followed by a “but”? It starts well: “You did a great job on that project!” But then comes, “But you could have done this better.” What happens to the initial compliment? It fades away, almost forgotten. The power of “but” is incredible—it changes the direction of our thoughts and feelings. Suddenly, we’re no longer focused on the good; we’re trapped on what came after the “but.”

Now, think about your relationship with God. How often do you say things like:

“I know God loves me, but I’ve made so many mistakes.”

“I believe Jesus forgives me, but I still feel guilty.”

“I trust God’s plan, but what if it doesn’t work out?”

The “but” in our faith becomes a barrier. It’s a tiny word that creates a huge obstacle. It introduces doubt, hesitation, and unbelief. Today, I want us to look at how we can overcome this “but,” and surrender fully our life to God, we will learn how this weakens our faith, and how embracing the gospel can change everything. I will divide this sermon into 3 points;

 

 

1. The Real Problem

¹ Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Syria, was a great man with his master and in high favor, because by him the Lord had given victory to Syria. He was a mighty man of valor, but he was a leper

Imagine this: You go to the doctor because you’ve been having a stomach ache for a few days. Now, if the doctor just gave you Panadol or some painkillers and sent you home without checking further, would that really solve the problem? No, right? The pain might go away for a little while, but the underlying issue is still there, and it could get worse.

A good doctor doesn’t just treat the symptoms; they want to find the real problem. So, they’ll ask you questions: “Do you feel nauseous? Have you been losing weight? Do you have other symptoms?” They might even send you for an ultrasound or other tests to check if there’s something like fatty liver, kidney stones, or another underlying issue causing your pain.

This process is necessary because if we don’t find the root cause, we won’t know how to truly fix it. The same thing applies to our spiritual lives. Many times, we think everything is fine. We might be “good enough” by the world’s standards. That’s what happened to Naaman.

Naaman wasn’t just any man. He was gentile. The Bible tells us that Naaman was a “great man with his master,” meaning that the king of Syria trusted him deeply. He was honest, trustworthy, and reliable. These are qualities we all respect in a leader, right?

He was a powerful man. He was the captain of the army of the king of Syria, a man at the top of his profession, someone who had worked hard to get to where he was. He had led his troops to victory many times. Naaman had earned the respect of his king and the people around him. People looked up to him. He seemed to have it all. Naaman had the kind of life many people dream of—success, honour, respect. He was at the top of his game.

But even with all of his success, Naaman had a serious problem. Even with all of his success, Naaman had a problem that overshadowed everything else: ¹ Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Syria, was a great man with his master and in high favor, because by him the Lord had given victory to Syria. He was a mighty man of valor, but he was a leper.

It didn’t really matter that Naaman was successful—but he was still a leper. It didn’t matter that he was powerful—but he was still a leper. It didn’t matter that he was respected—but he was still a leper. No matter how great Naaman’s achievements were, his leprosy affected everything. His success, power, and respect couldn’t remove his illness.

Leprosy, in those days, was a terrible disease. It caused the body to slowly fall apart. It was painful, incurable, and isolating.

He was powerful man, leading armies, winning battles, respected by everyone around him. But despite all of his accomplishments, there was something that made him vulnerable and weak. Leprosy was something Naaman couldn’t fix on his own. No amount of success, power, or bravery could cure him.

Doesn’t this remind us of our own lives? We might be successful in many areas. We might have worked hard, achieved great things, or be admired by others. But we all have a problem, just like Naaman had leprosy. What is our biggest problem? Not our physical sickness or our financial problem. Our problem is sin. We have leprosy of the soul.

In the Bible, leprosy is often used as a symbol of sin. Just like leprosy slowly destroys the body, sin slowly destroys our hearts and souls. Sin, like leprosy, makes us unclean. And just like Naaman couldn’t heal himself from leprosy, we can’t fix our sin problem on our own.

The Bible tells us in Romans 3:23, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” This means that no matter how good we try to be, no matter how many good things we do, we still fall short of God’s perfect standard. Sin separates us from God, and no amount of success, power, or goodness can make up for it. And just like Naaman needed healing from leprosy, we all need healing from sin.

Like going to the doctor, we need to examine what’s really going on in our hearts. If we think we’re “good enough,” we won’t seek help. We won’t see our need for God’s grace. But when we acknowledge our deeper issues—the sin—we will run to God, who knows exactly what we need and how to heal us.

Now, here’s where Naaman’s story takes a beautiful turn. Despite all of Naaman’s power and success, he couldn’t heal himself from leprosy. He needed help. But that help didn’t come from powerful person or some famous doctor. It came from an unexpected source—a young servant girl. So what happens with Naaman?

 

 

2. Desperation Meets Hope

² Now the Syrians on one of their raids had carried off a little girl from the land of Israel, and she worked in the service of Naaman’s wife. ³ She said to her mistress, “Would that my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his leprosy.” ⁴ So Naaman went in and told his lord, “Thus and so spoke the girl from the land of Israel.” ⁵ And the king of Syria said, “Go now, and I will send a letter to the king of Israel.”

 

Naaman’s condition must have filled him with frustration and despair. He had likely exhausted all local medical solutions, sought out the best doctors, and tried various remedies, only to watch his health continue to deteriorate. Imagine the internal struggle of a man who used to get to power and control, now rendered helpless by his own body. It’s a relatable moment for many of us: when we face circumstances beyond our control—be it illness, relational breakdown, job redundant or financial struggles—we find ourselves searching for a solution, often in desperation.

In Naaman’s case, hope came from an unexpected source. One of his household servants, a young Israelite girl taken captive during one of raids, shared information that would change his life. Israel and Syria hate each other. This young girl told Naaman’s wife about a prophet in Israel named Elisha, who had the power to heal. This girl’s faith and boldness in speaking up despite her status is remarkable.

The very fact that Naaman, a proud and powerful military leader, listened to the words of a young, foreign servant girl reveals his desperation. Naaman straight away went to Israel, armed with wealth and gifts for the prophet, expecting to buy his healing.

Here’s one point we can learn: God often works through unexpected people and circumstances to bring about His plan. This young servant girl wasn’t a prophet, wasn’t a king, didn’t have power or influence. But she knew something valuable: she knew who her God was and what He could do.

This girl had no power, no status, and no fame – we don’t even know her name. But she did have one thing: faith in God. That was her only difference. She believed in God, and she wasn’t afraid to say so. The whole story depends on her simple words. Naaman’s healing is an amazing story, showing God’s power and kindness. But it wouldn’t have happened without the courage of this unnamed Israelite slave girl.

Her faith was rooted in something bigger than her circumstances. And because of her simple faith, Naaman—a powerful but desperate man—began a journey toward healing that he didn’t even know was possible. God has chosen the weak and foolish things of this world to make himself known

There is one interesting thing here. Naaman was willing to take a chance on the advice of a lowly servant girl, someone who had every reason not to care about him. Isn’t it interesting? But this time he takes it. Why? Because he was in desperation. That’s what desperation does—it makes you open to things you wouldn’t consider otherwise. But this is also where grace steps in—when you’re at the end of your rope.

Naaman was a high-ranking commander, successful in every way, but he had leprosy. He was desperate. When this young girl told him about the prophet in Israel, Naaman must have thought, “What do I have to lose?” Nothing to lose for him.

Grace finds us in our desperation. When we realise we can’t fix things on our own, that’s often when God steps in. God’s grace often finds us when we’re desperate, when we’ve run out of options. Naaman was a man who thought his power and money could solve anything, but when it came to leprosy, he was powerless. And that’s when God used the unlikely witness of a young girl to point him in the direction of healing.

So he goes to his king, and the king sends a letter to the king of Israel, along with an enormous sum of wealth, hoping that this would secure healing.

When Naaman arrives in Israel, he brings a letter to the king, asking for healing. But the king of Israel is completely thrown off. The letter was misinterpreted as invitation to the war. He tears his clothes in distress, thinking this is a setup for conflict between Syria and Israel.

Elisha, the prophet, hears about the situation and sends word to the king: “Send Naaman to me” And through him, Naaman would experience God’s healing power. Leads me to last point.

 

 

3. Absolute Surrender

 

When Naaman arrived in Israel, he came with high expectations. He carried with him lavish gifts—ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold, and ten sets of clothing (2 Kings 5:5). This wealth was intended as payment or at least a gesture of goodwill, demonstrating Naaman’s willingness to compensate for the miracle he sought. It’s as if Naaman believed that his status and riches could secure the blessing of God through the prophet.

However, the interaction did not go as Naaman had expected. Elisha did not come out to meet him personally. Instead, the prophet sent a messenger with simple, direct instructions: “Go, wash yourself seven times in the Jordan River, and your flesh will be restored, and you will be cleansed” (2 Kings 5:10). This response was not only surprising but also insulting to Naaman. He had expected a grand display—a dramatic, ceremonial healing ritual where the prophet would wave his hand over the afflicted area and call on God with a loud proclamation. Instead, he received a humble command to dip himself in the muddy waters of the Jordan River.

Naaman’s reaction was immediate and telling. He was offended and angry, expressing his disappointment in verses 11-12: “I thought that he would surely come out to me and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God, wave his hand over the spot and cure me of my leprosy. Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Couldn’t I wash in them and be cleansed?” Naaman’s pride created a barrier between him and his healing. Let’s unpack this response because it’s filled with “buts”—the same kind of “buts” we often have in our own spiritual walk.

Naaman’s “Buts”:

1. “But I thought he would come out and meet me”

Naaman felt annoyed that Elisha did not even bother to meet him in person. As a commander of the army, Naaman was used to respect and deference. In his mind, this was not how a man of his stature should be treated. He expected to be honored and recognized. How often do we feel the same way? We want God to meet us on our terms, in a way that fits our expectations of how He should act. We say, “I trust God, but I expect Him to show up in the way I imagine.” When He doesn’t, we become offended and disheartened.

1. “But aren’t the rivers of Damascus better than the Jordan?”

Naaman’s second objection was rooted in his national pride. The rivers of Damascus, Abana and Pharpar, were clear, beautiful, and well-regarded. In contrast, the Jordan River was smaller and muddier. To Naaman, it seemed illogical and beneath him to wash in such a place. We can relate to this feeling when God asks us to do something that seems insignificant or beneath our dignity. We think, “But isn’t there a better way? Why should I humble myself like this?” We want the extraordinary, the glamorous, the spectacular—something that fits our view of what a miracle should look like.

1. “But I expected something more impressive”

Naaman had a vision of how his healing would take place. He wanted a grand ceremony, something worthy of his status. Instead, he received simple, almost mundane instructions. This disappointment reveals our own struggle with obedience when God’s direction seems too ordinary or unremarkable. We pray for guidance, and when it comes in the form of humble, everyday steps of faith, we hesitate, thinking, “This can’t be it. But I was hoping for a more dramatic sign.”

Naaman’s frustration almost caused him to miss out on his miracle. He turned away in a rage, ready to leave without obeying the prophet’s instructions. How tragic it would have been if the story ended there—if Naaman’s pride had led him to abandon his chance at healing. Yet, in this critical moment, his servants stepped in. They approached him and said, “My father, if the prophet had told you to do some great thing, would you not have done it? How much more, then, when he tells you, ‘Wash and be cleansed’?” (2 Kings 5:13).

This gentle rebuke is important. It reminded Naaman that he was ready to perform any great path for his healing—so why not follow this simple command? Naaman’s breakthrough came when he set aside his pride and chose humility. He listened to his servants and decided to obey, despite his reservations and initial objections.

He went down to the Jordan River and dipped himself seven times, just as Elisha had instructed. With each dip, we can imagine the tension in his heart—doubt, hope, fear, and finally, surrender. On the seventh dip, something miraculous happened: “His flesh was restored and became clean like that of a young boy” (2 Kings 5:14). The healing was complete and beyond what he had imagined.

Naaman’s story offers several key lessons for us in overcoming our own “buts” and stepping into God’s promises and fully surrender our life.

Naaman’s pride nearly caused him to miss his healing. He had to overcome his sense of entitlement, his national pride, and his preconceived notions about how God should work. Pride is often the root of our resistance to God’s instructions. It makes us believe that we know better or deserve better. To receive God’s blessing, we must humble ourselves, acknowledging our need and His sovereignty.

We all face moments where we say, “I know God’s promise, but…” We add our doubts, fears, and conditions, much like Naaman. We hesitate to step out in faith because the path doesn’t look the way we expected.

• “I’ll forgive that person, but only if they apologize first.”
• “I’ll give generously, but only when I’m financially secure.”
• “I’ll follow God’s call, but only if it aligns with my plans.”

Naaman’s story challenges us to drop the “but” and simply obey, trusting that God’s ways are perfect. We don’t need to understand everything; we just need to trust Him and follow His lead.

Jesus Didn’t Say “But” like us

In Naaman’s story, we see the struggle between human expectations and God’s will—a struggle marked by the word “but.” Naaman’s healing was almost ruined by his pride and personal ideas of how God should work. He said, “But aren’t the rivers of Damascus better?” and “But I thought the prophet would come out to me.” These objections and reluctant reflect a common human tendency to place conditions on our obedience to God. In contrast, the ultimate example of overcoming the “but” is found in Jesus Christ, who faced the greatest test of obedience in history.

On the night before His crucifixion, Jesus retreated to the Garden of Gethsemane with His disciples. He knew what lay ahead—the betrayal, the torture, and the excruciating death on the cross. Jesus, fully divine yet fully human, felt the weight of this moment. He experienced real anguish and distress, to the point where His sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground (Luke 22:44). This physical response shows the intense agony Jesus faced as He contemplated the suffering that awaited Him.

In this moment of deep distress, Jesus prayed, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done” (Luke 22:42). The phrase “take this cup from me” reflects Jesus’ understanding of the immense suffering He was about to endure. It was a burden heavier than any physical pain, as it involved bearing the full weight of the world’s sin and experiencing separation from the Father.

In this crucial moment, Jesus could have said, “I love humanity, but the cross is too painful.” He had every reason to say “but.” He knew the agony of whipping, the humiliation of the mocking, the pain of the nails piercing His hands and feet, and the slow suffocation of crucifixion. He understood the physical, emotional, and spiritual torment that awaited Him. Any one of us, facing such a prospect, would naturally look for a way out. We would be tempted to say, “I want to do God’s will, but not like this.”

Yet Jesus did not say “but.” like us. Instead, He said, “Yet not my will, but yours be done.” This single statement is the ultimate act of surrender, a complete submission to the Father’s plan despite the personal cost. The word “yet” signifies a shift from human desire to full obedience. Jesus chose the will of the Father over His own comfort, security, and even His own life. This moment in Gethsemane is the turning point of history, where the fate of all humanity hung in the balance, and Jesus chose obedience out of love.

He overcame the ultimate “but,” which was the temptation to avoid the suffering of the cross. This act of obedience is what made our salvation possible. Jesus’ decision sets an example for all believers. We often face moments of decision in our own lives where we feel the tension between our will and God’s will. We say, “God, I want to follow you, but it’s too difficult.” We hesitate, putting our own comfort, plans, and desires above what God is asking of us.

Jesus teaches us that true discipleship involves surrendering our “buts.” It means saying, “Not my will, but yours be done.” This kind of surrender is not easy; it requires trust in God’s goodness and His plan for our lives. It means believing that His ways are higher than ours, even when we don’t understand them or when they involve pain and sacrifice.

The cross is the ultimate demonstration that Jesus did not let the “but” hold Him back. He didn’t say, “I would save you, but the cost is too high.” Instead, He went all the way to the cross, fully embracing the Father’s plan of redemption. Jesus’ willingness to lay down His life for us is the greatest expression of love ever known.

If Jesus had hesitated, if He had allowed the “but” to dictate His actions, we would still be lost in our sins. There would be no hope of reconciliation with God, no promise of eternal life. The fact that Jesus chose to obey, even to the point of death, is what gives us the assurance of salvation today.

As we reflect on Naaman’s story and Jesus’ example, we are challenged to examine our own hearts. Where are we adding “buts” to our obedience? Are we saying:

• “I’ll serve God, but only when it’s convenient.”
• “I’ll trust God, but only if I can see the outcome first.”
• “I’ll love others, but only if they deserve it.”

The call of the gospel is to surrender our will fully to God’s will, just as Jesus did. Instead of saying, “But this is hard,” we say, “Yet not my will, but yours be done.” This kind of faith requires a deep trust in God’s character, believing that He is good, He is for us, and His plans are better than anything we could imagine.

Let’s pray

 

 

Discussion questions:

1. What struck you the most from the sermon?
2. What are the similarities between leprosy and sin? Can you see it in your life?
3. “Grace finds us in our desperation.” Is this true about your life? Share your story.
4. What are some ‘buts’ in your life that stop you from trusting God’s promises?
5. How does the gospel enable you to overcome your ‘buts’?