When I don’t need Him.


Every now and then this something happens in my mind.  I skip my morning quiet time with God because I’m too busy or it sounds boring, or because I’m feeling confident about the day’s tasks.  I convince myself that I’m not doing anything very complicated that day, and He’s watching over me anyway, and whether or not I acknowledge this fact (sadly, sometimes I do), I think to myself that today I can go it alone.

Enough of these days with no tragic circumstances, marital tiffs, or breakdowns, and I start to form a thought habit around the idea that I’m doing okay – that I don’t need Him.

These seasons usually come for me after seasons of hardship; not directly following, in the afterglow of being cared for by God himself, when the gratitude comes easily and the dependence naturally, but in the days and weeks following.  Slowly, steadily, my perceived need tapers down to nothing.

And then it hits the fan, y’all.

I feel and act needy. I’m selfish. I say something hurtful. I go about my tasks with bitterness.  I resent my husband. I’m catty.  And I have the audacity to wonder why.

Last summer was a season I look back on with very mixed emotions.  I struggled a bit with blogging, using it more as an escape than a release because I didn’t want my personal and professional life mingling online, and I definitely didn’t want to publish anything that would come back to haunt me later.  I was in a work situation that became abusive and uncomfortable and singlehandedly brought me back into the dark nights of my soul.  Each day I had to cry out to God, sometimes for hours, before I could get out of my bed and go about my day.  It was undoubtedly one of the most trying times of my life.  And yet, minute by minute, I was comforted in the knowledge that my God was nearby.

Sometimes in seasons of suffering, God feels distant.  We ask why he would lead us into the valley of the shadow of death, and we hear no answer.  This was not one of those times, and because of the nearness I felt despite the circumstances, by his grace I learned to walk in utter dependence on him and I am able to look back on the experience with peace and gratitude.  He taught me more about trust than I ever could have learned by walking an easy path, and it was clear to me the entire time that he was right by my side, sometimes physically holding me up, clearing my mind, giving me back the confidence my employer had stripped, giving me voice and courage to do the right thing, and ultimately forming me to be more like Jesus trusting his father to act in his best interest.  I never once doubted his purposes; by his grace I accepted the path in front of me and kept walking.

So how, now, do I hold my haughty head up at all when I realize that the thoughts running through it are so defiant?  Why is it so easy to forget the pain of sin that creeps into my heart?  Why am I not more vigilant about cutting it out every day, and why do I assume that doing things my way will result in fulfillment? Every single time, without fail, eventually my independence results in despair.

Let’s walk every day knowing we bring nothing to the table – it’s all Him.

This is my public challenge to myself to spend quality time with God every single day this week and onward; enough that I acknowledge every day that the gift of my very breath comes directly from him.

From the tainted heart He’s restoring little by little,


  • http://coleandlaura.blogspot.com Laura

    Thank you so much for this, Brynna… God knew I needed to hear this today.
    What a blessing and encouragement you are!

  • Evan

    Thank you, Brynna. Amen.

  • Pingback: Refreshment. « Brynna Begins