If Your God Needs Me, Find Another God

I remember my first theological argument.

It was only a few months after coming to Christ, so in the eyes of many I was an infant. I’m not attempting to deny that I was. Of course I was. I understand that even more now, nearly a quarter of a century later.

I also won’t attempt to deny that there was a small amount of pride and stubbornness on my part in standing unmoving in my belief. I was not willing to give an inch. Neither, as it turns out, was my 70-year-old bible study leader; an amazing Sister in Christ, Darlene, who had literally stepped into Christianity from birth, and her knowledge was not to be challenged by someone as unlearned as I was.

What was our argument about?

Her definitive statement that God needs us to perform service, of any kind, across any spectrum of His universe. I emphatically rejected that statement as not only being untrue, but also unbiblical, and a vigorous debate began.

What resulted was both interesting and extremely disappointing. Darlene and I agreed that when we met next, we would come prepared with scripture supporting our beliefs. I came prepared, she did not.

The only scripture I referenced, the only one I needed to, was Acts 17:25, which proclaims “And he is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything. Rather, he himself gives everyone life and breath and everything else.” NIV

You see, even as an infant in my faith, I was not an infant in life. I was forty-years old when I came to Christ, and I had at least some knowledge of The Word. I knew this verse, for sure.

I also knew this in my heart…why would I need a God who needed me? I wouldn’t. If I could do all things for myself, would God himself then just become arbitrary to me? Called upon only at my pleasure or for my purpose? And to what end? Glorying of myself. No glory for the Creator of the Universe, called in as a second stringer.

And digging even deeper into the idea of God needing me, calls into question His very sovereignty. Which is the very thing that I need, that you need. Absolute unwavering belief and trust in His sovereignty. If one does not hold that belief, how can one hold on to any of the other truths or promises made in His word. It cannot be done.

The Holy Spirit brought this reflection to mind recently, through a tear-filled conversation with another amazing Sister in Christ. I had the immense privilege of serving with Dana, her husband and several other spiritual warriors at the annual Peanut Festival in Dothan, Alabama.

We were there to share the love of Jesus with the festival workers, and when ears were opened, we boldly proclaimed the Good News of His birth, life, death and resurrection, and the hope that can be found only in His name. The group prayed and cried and hugged and fed dozens of the least of these each day of the festival. And it was beautiful.

It was one my way home, silent on the hours long drive back, that God and I reflected on all that had transpired. Tears were streaming down my face as I was thanking God for giving me the grace to, without any thought or hesitation, throw my arms around an unwashed stranger tweaking on meth and tell them they are loved, and to mean it from the very depth of my soul.

It was both uplifting and heartbreaking. Because behind the addictions and afflictions, behind the showman’s face, which most of us don’t see anyway, and behind the isolation and the loneliness of their transient lifestyle is rejection. Rejected by their families, their friends, and the world. They are virtually unwanted anywhere else.

Except in the Kingdom of Heaven. Jesus wants them there. Jesus died to have them there. And I was overcome with joy that I could share that with those He brought me into contact with.

Then Dana called to thank me, and I lost it again.

That leads me, finally, to the point of this reflection. God does not need us to do anything for Him. God wants us to do these things, He even commands us to do these things, because we’re the ones who need it.

As much as I appreciated Dana’s heart, it felt hypocritical to accept her thanks. I shared this with her, and she agreed. All of us that served were feeling the same way; incredibly joyful and abundantly blessed for being called to be there. For being trusted to love on and minister to His lost sheep.

And none of us felt worthy to take any credit for it, because none belonged to us. It was then, and always will be, the love of Jesus flowing into and out of our hearts that changes things. It changed me this past festival season and, God willing, I’ll be back serving next year.

I do have mixed feelings, however, on whether I hope to see familiar faces. I pray for them often, that they will find freedom through the redemptive blood of Jesus, and escape the cycle of poverty and bondage of despair their current world keeps them in.

But like all things, they remain in God’s sovereign hands.

He needs me not.