Say No to This: Tiny Deaths, Eternal Gain

When was the last time you told yourself no?

If you have a stash of Valentine’s Day candy in your kitchen, let’s be real—it probably wasn’t this weekend.

But think about it—when was the last time you had a craving and didn’t fill it? How long has it been since you had the urge to check your phone but stopped yourself before picking it up? What was the last item you almost added to your cart but then scrolled past? In what recent conversation did you choose to hold your tongue because you knew you should stop talking?

We live in a world where the default response is yes. Yes to indulgence, yes to comfort, yes to immediate gratification—in whatever way we can make it happen. If a choice is easy, convenient, or if it feels good in the moment, we rarely think twice.

When it comes to others, especially those younger than us, we see the wisdom of restraint. I’m not a parent, but I’ve spent enough time in the classroom to know the importance of telling kids no consistently and often—not as a means of depriving them but to help them learn patience, respect for others, and that they can’t always get what they want. Yet when it comes to our own impulses, do we parent our hearts with the same diligence?

In Matthew 16:24–25, Jesus said to His disciples,

“If anyone wants to follow after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life because of me will find it.”

We know themes of self-denial and a crucified life aren’t limited to the Gospels. Paul shares verses like these:

Therefore, put to death what belongs to your earthly nature. (Colossians 3:5)

I have been crucified with Christ, and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. (Galatians 2:20)

Now those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. (Galatians 5:24) 

When it comes down to it, we may be used to reading verses or hearing sermons telling us to put our flesh to death, but how often are we really willing to let even a single impulse die?

A Chance to Die

I’ve recently started back on a restrictive autoimmune protocol, one that doesn’t allow major allergens like gluten and dairy, ingredients found in more convenient packaged foods, or comforts like sugar and caffeine. It’s not the first time I’ve gone through this kind of elimination phase, but it somehow never feels simple. Familiar foods suddenly seem foreign, and I spend my time googling which spices are compliant while standing in grocery store aisles. Meal prep takes longer, and restaurant menus are frustrating.

But this round, two separate phrases have come to mind repeatedly—and they’re shifting my perspective. The first is from missionary Amy Carmichael, who once spoke to an older missionary about something that wasn’t to her liking. The advice he gave her was, “See in it a chance to die.”¹

That line has stayed with me as an invitation all week. In each tiny moment—ones most people would never know are a struggle for me—I have a choice to say no to what I want and yes to what I know is better for me. Each decision is a little death:

• A chance to die to the desire for immediate gratification and the instinct to soothe discomfort or boredom with a quick dopamine hit.

• A chance to die to comfort, convenience, and shortcuts that don’t require patience or planning.

• A chance to die to a sense of entitlement, especially one that assumes I deserve an easy or pain-free life.

• A chance to die to social ease, the ability to just “go with the flow,” and the discomfort of looking different than everyone else.

• A chance to die to effortless well-being and the fantasy that healing won’t require time, attention, and work.

• A chance to die to the need for external approval, especially when my choices make others uncomfortable or invite questions I don’t feel like answering.

Each little opportunity to say no to what my body is craving isn’t merely an act of deprivation. These tiny deaths are a daily practice in what it means to take up my cross, as Jesus called us to in Matthew 16: denying myself, following Him, and learning that a fruitful life isn’t found in indulgence but in surrendering to what is better and lasting—namely Him.

Look to the Longterm

The other phrase that’s come to mind is simply “short-term sacrifice, long-term reward.”

If there were no purpose in the self-denial, no greater good beyond the letting go, it would be far harder to endure. In my case, I’m hoping that each sacrifice I make will lead to lower systemic inflammation, reduced autoimmune activity, and improved overall energy, mental clarity, and quality of life.

But the principle isn’t just true when it comes to food.

As we walk with Christ, we’re constantly invited to trade what’s immediate for what is eternal, trusting that the hidden work of obedience will one day bear visible fruit. When we surrender our impulses and say no to our own flesh, we gain far more than we lose.

We don’t have to wait long to see some of the benefits. With each no, we experience . . .

• Greater freedom, as we’re no longer mastered by desires outside of Jesus (1 Cor. 6:12).
• Stronger spiritual muscles, as we choose to follow God’s will more and more (1 Tim. 4:8).
• Better hearing, as we follow the Holy Spirit’s conviction, tune out other noise, and create more space to listen to Him (Isa. 30:21).
• Endurance, training us now to stand firm later (James 1:2–4).
• Union with Christ, as we follow the pattern of surrender and humility that Jesus modeled perfectly (Phil. 2:5–8).
• Closeness to Jesus, because dying to self helps clear away what dulls our hunger for Him—creating intimacy, dependence, and joy that lasts beyond this life (Psalm 73:25–26).

The rewards don’t end there. Consider how self-denial is an investment in eternity.

• It increases our capacity for everlasting joy. Each act of self-denial trains our souls to delight in God’s presence, cultivating joy that transcends earthly pleasure (Psalm 16:11).
• Sacrifice today serves as a witness to the eternal. Self-control in a world of indulgence stands out. Others notice the peace and purpose of those seeking something more than temporal satisfaction (Phil. 2:15).
• One day, faithfulness will be rewarded by God Himself. Even the smallest sacrifices won’t go unnoticed by Him (Matt. 25:21).

A Yes to Him

As I’ve revisited the tips and tricks to make an autoimmune protocol work, I’ve realized that if wellness alone was the goal, I could possibly white-knuckle my way through a few more months before my willpower runs out.

But if instead I view this experience as a daily invitation to deny myself and depend on the Lord, then it isn’t just about discipline. It’s an opportunity for deeper love and obedience to Jesus—and He’s not just worth a few short-term sacrifices; He’s worth them all.

Jesus went first in showing us what a crucified life looks like, and He endured far greater sacrifices than we’ll ever face. Every no we offer with the help of His Spirit is a tiny echo of His yes to the Father—a tangible way of saying, You are worthy, Lord, of my whole life.

¹ Elisabeth Elliot, “A Chance To Die,” Elisabeth Elliot, March 8, 2023,https://elisabethelliot.org/resource-library/devotionals/a-chance-to-die/.