On Becoming Dependent
Stories, yarn, and residue
About a decade ago my wife and I were in a group called Potter’s Wheel. It was an intense five day, eight hours a day (sometimes more) soul care sessions with a few other people aimed at preparing us to provide soul care for others. It used the work of Dan Allender and Larry Crabb, and we were lucky to learn from a couple who mentored under them. During one of the days, we were talking about a model of change and the end result of where we wanted people (and us) to arrive. The last of the categories was moving from independence to dependance.
In our individualistic culture being told to arrive at dependance may be seen as an unworthy goal. Why not stop at independence? Shouldn’t our goal be to become self-sufficient and not need so much help from so many people?
Well, in a word, no.
There has never in the history of humankind been a human that didn’t depend on another human. Even Jesus. And before you say, “Sure Dustin, but Jesus didn’t have to. He’s God. He’s just setting an example.” Maybe, but he still relied on his parents to raise him and love him, on his community to know him (even if both lost him in the crowd at 12 years old), and his apprentices to care for him as he cared for them.
We’re all familiar with Jesus’ time in the desert with Satan and being tempted, right? Have you ever wondered how we got that story? It’s just Jesus and Satan out there. Satan probably didn’t tell anyone about it. At some point Jesus told the Twelve someting like, “Listen, I gotta tell you guys about something that happened. It was exhausting and angels had to come and attend to me but the Father provided.” My point is, we only know about that story because Jesus told them in detail what happened and how tired he was. He needed them.
He needed them to stay awake with him the night before he died. He needed help carrying the cross. Spend some time thinking about that! And He was so dependent on the Father that he said he couldn’t do anything unless he saw the Father do it first (John 5:19). Setting aside the fact that Jesus was one with the Father so ostensibly that was his natural way of being, he also prayed that we would become one with the Father as he is. This tells me that we can also reach a place where we are that dependent on God.
Being independent is not a bad thing. I can make an argument that much of whatever “deconstruction” is, is independence in the best sense; it is figuring out what we trust and why. That involves a heavy dose of independent thinking and feeling. But once we have decided what we trust — Well, dependent we must become.
And it is a becoming, isn’t it? Trust takes time and it’s not always a consistent journey. Remember Peter proclaimed Jesus as the Messiah, which Jesus told him was revealed by the Father, and the very next story is Peter rebuking Jesus for saying he was going to die and come back to life and Jesus says that is a work of Satan (Matthew 16:13-23). Remember that the next time you feel like faith - trust - seems unsettled. You’re in good company.
Now maybe some of you may be asking, “But doesn’t dependance mean I’m not allowed to have questions or doubts?” I don’t think it does. My son is heavily dependent on us at the moment and yet is very opinionated about his own independence. This is a good thing. He trusts that if he can’t do something then he can ask for help or ask questions, and we will step in. As he grows, he will become more independent while growing in his trust and dependence on what we have given him.
I think of it like giant braided yarn.
When we are in healthy and secure attachment to God, the braids are independent at some level but dependent on the other braids to remain securely attached. As in any relationship, me and God require regular communication, connection, and evaluation of what’s working and what’s not. I’m tugging at the strands to make sure everything is still dependently working.
Maybe you feel a bit like this right now:
That’s okay. There’s some connection happening, the tools are nearby to help begin the process of trust and dependence.
How can we move closer to dependence?
First, I would invite you examine your relationships. Warren Brown and Brad Strawn say in The Physical Nature of the Christian Life that, “What we learn about relationships early in life, we use to anticipate what to expect in later relationships.”1 Those early relationships are especially formative to how we view current relationships, even with God.
Secondly, as you examine those relationships pay attention to the stories you hear about yourself, others, and God. Brown and Strawn talk about the power of stories: “We do not passively comprehend stories, but mentally engage in simulations of the action. The result is not a memory of the mere abstract details of the story, but rather a behavioral residue from comprehending the story using the neural processes by which we organize our own actions.”2 In other words, we react to new situations with old stories. There’s a “residue” we may not even be aware of that leaves its mark on new relationships.
We must become aware of the relationships and stories that have shaped us. If we do not then we run the risk of, as Jesus said, “pouring new wineskins in old wineskins” and having them burst.
Becoming dependent is an act of trust that God’s vision for the world is a trustworthy one and that as we depend on that vision, we will depend also on God to do what God said he will do. It’s trusting that even if we do act out old stories about ourselves, others, and God and burst those wineskins, we are in relationship with a God who is able to make a lot more wine if we ask him to.
Brown, Strawn, The Physical Nature of the Christian Life: Neuroscience, Psychology, and the Church, pg. 61
ibid, pg. 83