“Please Don’t Take Your Spirit From Me”
I just finished writing a new song. It's not produced or polished, I filmed a simple acoustic version of it, just me and the guitar. Raw and honest. I'm afraid to share it, and that's the reason I am.
The Story Behind the Song
It’s inspired by the story of Saul and David in the Bible.
Saul was chosen and anointed by God to be king, but somewhere along the way, he started believing the position was something he earned. Something he deserved. When God told him, through Samuel, that He had chosen someone else, Saul didn’t repent. He didn’t surrender. He fought back, as if he could hold on to what God said was no longer his.
That choice unraveled him. He lost his peace, his family, his calling, and eventually his life.
I often wonder what might’ve happened if Saul had remembered the surrender he walked in when God first called him. What if he had surrendered again? Trusted again? Maybe David still would’ve become king, but would Saul have been blessed? Could he have lived in peace instead of being destroyed by what he tried to control?
David made mistakes too. Big ones. But when God convicted him, he didn’t fight it. He repented. He didn’t cling to power or image. He prayed, “Take everything… just don’t take your Spirit from me.”
David knew what mattered most. God’s presence was the real treasure. Not the crown. Not the title. Not the approval of people. He kept coming back to that place of surrender.
It’s easy to surrender when we have nothing. But as blessing and favor come, we start to tighten our grip. We move from grateful to entitled. From open hands to clenched fists. We cling to what we think we deserve, instead of staying surrendered to the One who gives and takes away.
We like to think we’re David. But more often, we’re Saul.
Now that I’m writing and sharing again, I feel the pull. Comparison. Competition. The drive for more. It creeps in like a flood.
But I refuse to drown in it.
I will let go. I will remember. I will surrender.
I fight back by sharing songs before they’re polished, before they’re “perfect.” Because they don’t have to be. I don’t have to be. This isn’t about impressing anyone. It’s not about metrics, trophies, or building something in a kingdom that’s going to fall.
It’s about remembering the heart that first surrendered to these gifts when I was just a kid. And surrendering again as I give them away.
To be honest, I resist writing things like this. I’ve seen behind the curtain of the industry of Christianity. Oz is just a little man pulling levers and blowing smoke. I’ve watched divine truths get whittled into Jesus jingles and feel-good sermons.
But the same ego that rises up in me to compete is the same ego that resists who God made me to be.
The enemy isn’t afraid of our success. He wasn’t afraid of Saul being king. He’s not afraid of artists writing hit songs. He’s afraid of surrender.
Because a person who’s surrendered to God is dangerous with or without power, platform, or influence. A person like that scares hell.
My story is full of mistakes, ego and detours. I’ve gotten in the way. But since I was a teenager driving around the country in an old car playing songs for anyone who’d listen, I’ve had the same prayer:
God, take it all. Just don’t take your Spirit from me.
That prayer still guides me. It always will.
I have surrendered before and I am surrendering now, by hitting record and clicking “share”
-warren barfield