There’s a thought that’s been circling around in my head the last few weeks, perhaps longer, about dependence. I don’t know for sure, but I’d guess this is an especially big problem in America. I think it’s rooted in the idea of charity or welfare, and our destain for it. We don’t mind giving charity as long as it’s temporary, with measurable improvement. We don’t mind welfare as long as we are certain that the recipients are worthy, and it’s temporary. (Emphasis on “temporary.”) We want them to be working to get out of welfare.
And yet, this post isn’t about welfare or charity. Though I could easily follow this rabbit trail for a few thousand words. This post is about how we let our view of them effect our view of dependence on a very, very personal level.
I was sitting on my porch the other day, looking out over our yard and watching the kids ride bike and chase the dogs. I was thinking about how I’ve needed God so much these last few years since my car accident. I’ve been so very dependent. I haven’t always been able to get food on the table, and God provided. I didn’t always have childcare for my doctor appointments. God provided. Sometimes I would walk into an appointment, not knowing what my kids would do in the waiting room by themselves but I was literally left with no other choice, and one of my friends would be waiting for me there at the office, saying she just felt I needed her that day.
My work ethic, patience, pain tolerance, teaching ability has essentially been broken and I’ve been left with no other choice to depend on God for very, very practical needs. As my strength has been improving these last months with some physical therapy, and continued treatment, I finally see light at the end of the tunnel that it won’t always be this way. I will be myself again.
I won’t need God so much.