Made Willing

Salvation doesn’t come through some cooperation between our will and God’s grace. Grace doesn’t just make salvation possible, it actually changes the heart. It doesn’t simply give us the option to perceive truth and then leave the choice up to us. It implants sight within us to see the glory of Christ. And when that happens, we come freely because we’ve been made willing.

“All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never cast out.” (John 6:37)

One common and troubling belief in the church today is the idea that we somehow play a part in our own salvation. That we’re the main character and grace is more like a divine assistant, willing and ready to help, but never interfering with our personal autonomy. Salvation, in this view, is a possibility we can activate if we want it bad enough. Grace is handed out like a brochure at a travel agency: “Here’s your option—take it or leave it.”

But if salvation depends on our decision, our will, or our response, how could it ever be trusted? How can it be secure? And if we don’t choose God freely, then aren’t we just robots? That’s the tension I lived in for years. I genuinely believed that real love had to be a free choice. After all, who wants to be in a relationship with someone who had no choice but to love you?

It’s a valid question and it deserves a thoughtful answer.

This is where the common view kicks in: that our will has to somehow meet grace halfway. That God does His part, and we do ours. It sounds fair. After all, no good relationship thrives unless both sides contribute. But Scripture paints a completely different picture.

The Bible doesn’t describe the human heart as neutral or even hesitant. It says it’s deceitful (Jeremiah 17:9), hostile to God (Romans 8:7), dead in sin (Ephesians 2:1), and incapable of seeking Him on our own (Romans 3:11). Not merely weak but completely incapable.

Still, many try to resolve this by saying God gives everyone enough grace to make the choice but then leaves it up to us to follow through. Grace, in this model, is more like divine potential. But here’s the difference: that view says God gives you the chance to choose. Scripture says He gives you the will to choose. How? By changing your heart. One leaves salvation hanging in midair. The other finishes what it starts.

And if I can choose Christ by my own will, then I can just as easily walk away. That’s where I lived for years. I truly believed my salvation hinged on me. That meant that my failures could unravel it. And trust me, that kind of belief doesn’t lead to peace. It leads to anxiety, guilt, legalism, and shame.

Every time I sinned, I wondered if I had lost my standing with God. Every time I felt distant, I feared I had severed the cord; that I’d caused an eternal rift in my relationship with God. I thought Jesus died to give me a chance. I didn’t understand He died to secure me forever.

That’s not freedom. That’s fear with faith as a mask.

The belief that we can choose God on our own might sound freeing, but in reality, it quietly builds a prison of performance and locks us into a life of striving and spiritual insecurity. Because if you saved yourself by making the right choice, then you’ll constantly feel the pressure to keep yourself saved by making the right moves. What began as a free decision becomes a lifelong burden to prove it was real.

But the gospel isn’t that we chose God. It’s that God chose us.

Yes, we come freely. But not because our will woke up one day and wanted Him. We come because grace opened our eyes and changed our hearts.

Here’s what our reformed confession says about it. After the fall, humanity lost all ability to will anything spiritually good. We are not just wounded, we are dead. We don’t naturally lean toward God. We don’t reach. We don’t respond. We don’t even prepare ourselves for grace. We can’t.

Dead people don’t move unless God moves first.

But when He does, He doesn’t just offer grace in hopes that we respond. He makes us alive to receive it.

That’s what Jesus means when He says, “All that the Father gives me will come to me.” Not might. Not hopefully. Will come. And those that come? He said they will never be cast out.

A few verses later, Jesus says, “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him.” (John 6:44) The word “draw” is the same word used for dragging a net full of fish to shore (John 21:6). He doesn’t shove us through the door. He opens our eyes to the beauty on the other side. He draws sinners not by force, but by making Christ utterly irresistible to a heart He has made new.

God doesn’t force us, He frees us.

And when that happens, we don’t resist Him, we run to Him.

This isn’t some cold doctrine that strips away human dignity. This is freedom. This is good news. This is a God who doesn’t just make salvation possible, He makes it real. He draws. He regenerates. He grants repentance and faith. He finishes what He starts.

He didn’t owe salvation to any of us. That He gave it to some isn’t unfair—it’s grace.

So no, salvation isn’t about cooperating with grace. It’s about being raised from the dead. It’s about God implanting sight, not handing you a flashlight and hoping you find your way. And when that happens, when you’re made alive, you come to Christ. Not reluctantly. Not mechanically. But willingly.

Because you’ve been made willing.