Declaration of Dependence

And then there's always that stage, in the life of a blogger, when there's nothing in particular going on that really "relates" to the theme of the blog, but if you don't post, then people give up on you and stop reading your blog. This is the fear I live with daily, but this is mostly because it's summertime, the time when worthless conflicts fly clean under the radar. Or don't exist at all. The only lemons are the ones you've already used to make lemonade and are currently digesting. But I mix my metaphors.

Bloggers have certain tricks up their sleeves to avoid the void: commenting on relevant (or not) articles of news, ranting when something gets under their skin, and (my personal favorite) elaborating on an otherwise mundane story for entertainment's sake. And really, what else do bloggers have? What is a blog?

I say this question stems from a source not altogether unlike the question of our faith, and with it coupled the fear that when we stop knowing what to do with our spiritual lives, reach a lull in posting, if you will, God will stop being interested in us as followers in favor of the more "self-motivated" ones. In training to become a teacher, I learned the push was always to encourage students to become independent learners. This is the kind of thing we prize here in Planet America, not only in children but throughout life; in fact it's what we celebrated all day today.

Independence is a funny thing. Let me tell you some of the acts of independence I exercised today, know-it-all twenty-something that I am. I ate to the point of sickness, just because it was a holiday. I neglected to reapply sunscreen, just because. I've been neglecting my prayer life (gasp) for nigh on a week now, just because my way seemed pretty much aligned with God's way, and I don't have to pray every day...

Something I'm learning as I step out to make a life for myself is that independence doesn't guarantee wisdom; it sends up a smokescreen. Now, because of my independence, I'm sick to my stomach, tender to the touch, and out of touch with the Lord. Some aloe and some time will heal my physical indulgences but I just can't medicate my wickedness. Can't even send up a proper flare without the indwelling of the Spirit, so inextricably bound to Christ as a disciple. This bond to Christ is, then, my only hope for freedom from my foolish, sinful nature.

Now, I know I've not been painting this well, but here's what I'm laying down: I can declare freedom only through utter dependence on Christ. Ka-boom! Fight a war over that one!