Fasting from Self-Sufficiency
My husband jokes that my favourite words are, “Don’t tell me what to do.”
Unfortunately, it’s true.
It’s childish, sure. However, it is my gut reaction to anyone trying to assert their will over mine, to claim my autonomy, to steal my right to make my own decisions.
It doesn’t matter whether the person who is instructing or advising me is doing so gently or with good intent. (Though certainly, gentle instruction will go over better than unwanted advice).
There have been countless times where Fritz, my mom, or some other family member (it’s usually family members, isn’t it?) have offered well-intentioned suggestions, only to result in the monster inside me rising up and stubbornly refusing to take their suggestions because it simply doesn’t want to be told what to do.
Independence is a strong value of mine, as are self-sufficiency and a sense of autonomy. What can I say? I was raised in a family and culture that taught these values. It is counted a weakness to need help from someone. I can do it myself, thank you very much, even if it costs me a great deal of time and effort.
The problem with self-sufficiency is that it isn’t Christ-like.
Ouch.
My not-so-subtle obsession with self-sufficiency is one that I’ve tried to ignore, or at least justify. It’s not that bad, I’ll think. Independence is a great virtue! It is equated with strength! Power! Courage!
At least, I’ll think so until I’m confronted with Jesus’ words about love, peace, and depending on one another—and most importantly, on Jesus—for strength and daily provision.
I think of “Love the LORD your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength. The second is this: Love your neighbour as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these” (Mark 12:30-31).
Or, “Whoever wants to become great among you must be your slave; just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Matt. 20:28).
Or perhaps the story of the self-sufficient rich man who could not give up his possessions to follow Jesus because his riches were too dear to him (Matt. 19:18-24).
Jesus’ entire way of operating as he walked on the earth was concerned with the plight of others. He healed the broken, restored the outcast, and loved the enemies of Israel. He fed them, washed them, and touched them. His entire ministry was dependent on the hospitality and welcome of others (Luke 8:1-3, 9:1-6).
The Way of Jesus is opposite to the Way of North America. It is selfless, not selfish. It is assured and rooted in the power and presence of God With Us; it is not self-assured. It is sufficient for our life with him as we live and work every day; it is not self-sufficient.
See, self-sufficiency is a broken way of operating in the world. It revolves around that prefix, self. It is, in a word, selfish. It is concerned with the self primarily and doesn’t care a lot for the input of others.
Ouch.
I pick on North America because the values of independence, autonomy, and self-sufficiency are revered in the Western world. Unlike our Eastern brothers and sisters, the West identifies strength in solitude, courage in loneliness, and power in isolation.
But friends, that’s a lonely, depressing life.
In a sweeping systematic review of the effects of friendship on physical health, it has been shown “that loneliness—among people who lack quality friendships, romantic partnerships, or other relationships—increases our risk for heart attack, stroke, and premature death, according to a longitudinal study of nearly 480,000 U.K. residents (Hakulinen, C., et al., Heart, Vol. 104, No. 18, 2018).”
Even our physical bodies reject self-sufficiency!
We need others. Against our popular cultural norms and messages, we need them. Thankfully, cultural messages are changing, particularly after the pandemic, but these values have been deeply entrenched and will take great time and effort to uproot.
So. Fasting from self-sufficiency.
How do we even begin the process of fasting from something so deeply engrained in our hearts, minds, and bodies?
Start small. When someone offers advice—solicited or not—accept it graciously and gratefully. Consider whether it may be useful to implement in your life or work without immediately rejecting it.
When you are struggling to complete a task and acknowledge that it lies outside your abilities and skills, ask your spouse, friend, or family member to help you instead of Googling the answer or finding a self-tutorial on YouTube.
When you recognize the strength of your will rising up within you against a perceived weakness, stop. Bring it to Jesus. He was ultimately weak in every way, and yet was strong in his weakness. It is his ‘weakness’ that defeated death; this is power perfected in the kingdom of God (2 Cor. 12:8-10).
The Queen of Vulnerability, Brené Brown, says that vulnerability is “uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure” (Daring Greatly). Acknowledging self-sufficiency and ‘fasting’ from it is uncomfortable. It is vulnerable. It requires walls to come down and pedestals to be lowered.
I hope you know that I’m writing this to myself more than to anyone else. Even as I write it, the idea of being dependent on others—being weak—is grating. I want to power up, be strong, be enough all on my own. (Yes, I’m an Enneagram Eight).
And yet… I have enough experiences in life to tell me that depending on others—especially those whom I trust—is no bad thing. In fact, it can build and strengthen relationships. It can deepen the wells of trust between us and solidify bonds of friendship. It is a life lived with open hands and peace of mind rather than anxiety.
