Treasuring Dependence in the Autonomous World
After the breakfast orders have been placed and spilled Cheerios become tiny life preservers in the milk puddles on our table, I pull on my coat, slip on my muck boots, and head out the door.
The cold greets my face with a chilly blast while my feet break apart the snow nobody ordered. It’s time to feed and water our ducks.
It’s a ritual I perform each day, yet the simple act never ceases to affect me. I leave the quiet, comfortable, temperature-controlled environment of my home for the uncontrollable outdoors. Inside, temperature can be changed with the touch of a finger, entertainment sits ready in my pocket, and rolls of paper towel can show up at my door with next-day shipping.
It’s not that life is easy inside. With three small children, the chaos of toys and responsibilities are ever present. Yet despite all the hustle, I still hear the whisper that control is in your reach. I feel it as I scroll on my phone, plan our day, or respond to my kids. I get to have some say in this day, and I'll make it work.
THE LIE OF AUTONOMY
But once my face meets the icy air, I’m hit with a different reality. I can’t change this cold. I feel small in the biting wind. While I lug the five-gallon bucket of water, I remember I’m just as dependent as the ducks waiting for me to relieve their thirst. My luxuries inside can be gone in an instant. It’s here, in the wilderness, that the distractions of my days unravel long enough to remind me of reality. I’m dependent. The idea that I am autonomous, that I can control and expertly manage my life is nothing but a lie.
As Christians, realizing our dependence in a world of autonomy can be a challenge. Since the day the snake whispered to Eve in the garden, generations have been fixed on the idea that we can control our lives. Everything around us reinforces this idea. Just one more pill—we’ll fix it. Just one more device—we’ll find joy. Just one more goal, one more workout, one more parenting book, one more app . . .
Sure, Christians scoff at the “You decide your life”-arguments for abortion, but do we see the same lie permeating our own homes? Do we catch the lie of autonomy when it whispers that we can control our reputation with a well-curated Facebook page; that we can shape our children with a five-step method, or find health and freedom with the right food?
Our lips might repeat sola Christo (“Christ alone”), but our eyes are too quickly enamored with the work of our hands. In a world that takes every opportunity to push us towards self-reliance, we must remember that we are not made for independence, but for dependence on our Creator.
One way we can do this is by taking a look at those before us who fought the same battle.
THAT WHICH WE DID NOT BUILD
The Israelites’ formation as a people began in utter dependence on the Lord. They didn’t find deliverance in their war tactics but through their God who worked miraculous signs and wonders for millions to see. They crossed through the waters of the Red Sea, were given food and water, and didn’t even have to decide which direction to go. They (eventually) approached the Promised Land as humble recipients of what God had done.
But God never expected them to move on from this dependence. As Moses recited the law for the second time before entering the Promised Land, he called the Hebrew nation to remember what the Lord has done. They were warned to not forget of God’s deliverance once they entered the land and received good cities they didn’t build, houses they didn’t fill, cisterns they didn’t dig, and trees they didn’t plant (Deut. 6:10–12).
Of course, we know they did forget. They turned to the work of their own hands and made idols (Isa. 2:8). They relished the thought of serving gods that bent to their own rules . Even though they received God’s benevolence and redemption, they decided they could take it from there.
But God did not perform signs and wonders so they might grow in their independence. He didn’t call them his own so they could become their own masters. No, he brought them out so they would be his people (Ex. 6:7). They were to know that he was the true sovereign of all the earth, their refuge and strength in times of hardship and plenty (Ps. 62:2). They were saved to serve him (Deut. 11:13).
SAME OLD STORY
God did the same thing for us that he did for the Israelites. He redeemed us; bought us back by the miraculous display of the cross for the millions who look upon it (1 Tim. 2:6). He gave us the bread of life and the living water to revive our souls (Jn. 4:10, 6:35). He rescued us as his people, and his sovereign care does not stop at our redemption. He rescued us to be our God, for us to be his people (Jer. 32:38). He is our refuge and strength in times of difficulty and times of plenty (Ps. 62:2).
In service to him, Christ offers us a much lighter load than the ones we subject ourselves to (Matt. 11:30). He asks us not to grow up and move on, but to grow further in him (Eph.2:20–21). We grow further in trust not in works by our own hands, but through the Spirit who works in us (Gal. 5:22–23).
So why do we so quickly want to carry the load ourselves? We can't defeat that sin on our own. We won't be able to change our child's heart, no matter how many blogs we read. We can't disciple our brother with well-written notes. And the good news is that we were never asked to! Books, notes, and tools are helpful, but only when we use them with the knowledge that we’re still dependent on God’s grace.
A CALL TO REMEMBER
It’s a gift to feel the weight of our dependence. It’s something we want to remember each day.
John Bunyan pens a beautiful picture of what this remembrance looks like in his well-known classic, The Pilgrim’s Progress. When the main character Christian finally receives freedom from his burden at the cross, he is met by Visitors who show the work of the Trinity in his salvation. The third visitor gives him a roll with a seal upon it and encourages Christian to look upon it as he runs. That roll is the seal of his salvation, the evidence of what Christ had done.
We hold that seal as well. Looking on our own salvation as we run reminds us once again that we have done nothing, and God has done everything. And when the challenges feel too difficult, our salvation gives us hope that the God who has carried us through will not leave us now. We won’t find easy fixes, but we can hold fast to our loving God.
When the icy air hits your face and you feel the weight of your dependence, don’t push it away. Whether it’s that moment when all your plates come crashing down, an illness takes hold of your body, or just the feeling of despair that comes when you can’t take one more day at work, these are moments that serve to remind us of what has always been true: We are dependent on the God of all creation, and we’ll never find rest by going it alone.
Brianna Lambert is a wife and mom to three, making their home in the cornfields of Indiana. She loves using writing to work out the truths God is teaching her each day. She is a staff writer with GCD and has contributed to various online publications, such as Morning by Morning and Fathom magazine. You can find more of her writing paired with her husband’s photography at lookingtotheharvest.com.