Work as if it all depends on God?
January 24, 2025
After another round with Covid in the last year, God has been teaching me a few things about work/life balance, being realistic about my limits and trusting Him in the process of it all (which is much easier to write about than learn!).
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"Work as if it all depends on God"?
Yes, I realise that’s not how the saying goes. But no, it’s not a typo.
“Pray as if it all depends on God, work as if it all depends on you.”
That is the version we might be more familiar with. In other words: when you pray, pray hard! When you work, work hard! It’s some serious pull-yourself-up-by-the-bootstraps wisdom. My adrenaline spikes just thinking about it.
But is this ‘wisdom’ really that wise? I think not.
The issue(s) with “pray as if it all depends on God”
- Our prayer does not need to be a feat of strength to convince God to help us. Yes, there is a place for continuing, ongoing prayer and petition. Take the parable of the unjust judge and the widow in Luke 18. She pesters him until he gives her what she wants. But the point Jesus makes is that God is not like the unjust judge—he doesn’t delay in granting justice. Yes, we have to exercise patience and perhaps pray for things over extended periods of time, but that doesn’t mean God needs convincing to hear our prayers. He is at work. He is on His way. Consider the reassurance of James 1:7: “Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.”
- Prayer is as natural as everyday conversation: it is not a sales pitch. Talking to another person, most of the time, is a natural flowing process. Unless we’re nervous, stressed or angry, we just talk. Say what we want to say. Prayer is as ordinary as asking your spouse to pick up a pint of milk from the store. This is where I’m at, God. Yes, there are times where our prayers may have us on our knees because we’re praying about something that really hurts or scares us. Prayer has range. It doesn’t need urgency. It needs honesty. And God is in the pause.
- Yes, everything depends on God. But that was true before you started praying. (And God is aware.) Luke 12:22-31 reminds us not to worry because God has all things in his hands. Consider the lilies, the ravens, or the grass in the field. God was at work long before you existed and will be long after we’ve returned to the dust. Remember what Colossians 1 says about Christ as the image of God: “He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him. He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together.” However dark or confusing the world might be, however it might seem as if God were not present: His work is not finished. The end of the story has not come.
I prefer “pray as if it all depends on you” rather than “on God.” Why? Because if it does all depend on me, I quite quickly realise I need help. It brings me to my knees. It humbles me. If I am called to loving action within this world, then I know I’m not qualified and need help. I can’t remember who it is or where this comes from (and I’ll probably get the details wrong), but it’s the story of the guy who on his busiest days would have to get up extra early to pray for 2 hours to be able to survive the day. To do the work of doing justice, loving kindness and walking in humility (Mic 6:8) demands that I pray and do so in earnest, because on my own my actions are anything but.
In short, pray as it all depends on me reminds me that in prayer I approach a God who loves me, a God has it all in His hands, a God I come to in desperate need of His help to play my part.
But what about “work as if it all depends on me”?
I have a beef with this one too. It seems like a holy sanction of pushing ourselves to the limit. I don’t see much grace in such a pattern and it chafes against the picture of work and rest we see in Scripture.
Take the commandment to keep Sabbath. In Deuteronomy it is tied to what God has done in liberating his people from slavery in Egypt and making them into His own people:
“Remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and the Lord your God brought you out from there with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm; therefore the Lord your God commanded you to keep the sabbath day.”
The Israelites had been delivered from forced, heavy labour and provided with a promised land to till and inhabit. Everything they'd been given was grace: freedom to work, a land to farm and fruitful trees they did not plant. Stepping away from their work in the midst of all this grace kept their focus and reminded them it all depended on what God had brought about. It was an act of continued trust of that God's grace was enough in their life and livelihoods. And all were to rest from work on the Sabbath, not just those in charge but their slaves, immigrants and even the livestock. This was a gift for all not for those that deluded themselves into thinking they deserved it.
“Work as if it all depends on God” makes much more sense.
Why? Because:
- It reminds me I’m not responsible for the outcome. I am called to diligent, faithful work today, which contributes to the outcome. But I cannot control tomorrow. Disaster could strike. Sickness. The economy could crash. An ancient Israelite had no power over the sun, rain or harvest other than faithfully tending to their crops. We are subject to so many and changing dynamics in the world that are far above our paygrade. Thinking the outcome all depends on us is fantasy.
- It reminds me of the God who holds all things in His hands. Work is part of life, but it’s not to be idolized. The salvation we have is about eternal salvation from sin, but also safe passage through this life. That’s not to say life is free from suffering (quite the opposite), but that life under God is to be lived by active trust in God. Work is part of the things that God gives us along the way, but it’s just work. Part of a much bigger, divinely-held, whole.
- It lets me be human. I do the work I can do. I work within my limits and not even right at them. God is opposed to slavery in all forms, and that includes the kind that is self-imposed and self-driven. As an antedote to this, I heard of a great word recently: underscheduling. This is the idea that we ought to give ourselves space between appointments rather than cramming as much as possible into it all. It means leaving wiggle room for yourself: allowing more time than you need to drive to the store, do that project or to make that meeting. Rather than running our reserves down to almost empty and doing the most we can with as little as possible, underscheduling doesn't let the tank get below ¼ full. Life is a marathon not a sprint—and underscheduling is a way to pace oneself and (I suspect) trust God in the process, acknowledging we are embodied human beings, part of God's Creation and in need of breath, rest, and living within our limits.
Working as if it all depends on God invites me in to remember God is the one who brought me here, sustains me here and will take care of tomorrow. I do my part, but like all things: it’s ultimately in his hands. What grace!
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Photo by Spencer Scott Pugh on Unsplash
Let me start by asking a question: if someone came up to you and asked what's the benefit or blessing of being a Christian, what would you include in your answer? There's the things we might know to say from Sunday School: Jesus loves me, died for me, so I can be forgiven and free. Or something like that. Would it naturally come to your lips to say this: The gift of my faith is that no matter how hard life gets, no matter the sorrow or suffering that comes my way, I am reassured and strengthened by the confidence that God does not ignore the unjust lives or deaths of those who stick close to Him? *** This summer I’m taking some time to look at Daniel 11-12 and Book 4 of the Jewish poetic writings I research, the Sibylline Oracles . This post is an observation and an out-loud thought from some of my reading. Again and again, both in Daniel, the Sibyllines, an array of other Jewish literature, and the gospels (as well as elsewhere in the NT—e.g. Mark 8:38-9:1, 10:29-31, John 11:25, 1 Cor 15:16-19, 2 Corinthians 4), resurrection and the post-mortem life appears as an encouragement and response to the problem of human suffering. Not a rationale or justification. It’s not an answer to the question of ‘why does God allow suffering’ in any overt sense. But an end to the story of God’s peoples that shapes how the present might be lived. When I was very young, I thought resurrection was more-or-less a get of jail free card for the crucifixion. Jesus died on a cross to deal with sin and death. But if he isn't raised it's all pointless: so God has to raise him. Resurrection as an after thought, if you will. But resurrection isn't an epilogue. It's the victory. Without it the whole story is pointless. It's a real, substantial, material hope. *** Life is hard work. Life does not always go our way. Even when it does, that way isn't usually what we really wanted anyway! There's the normal hard stuff of life: work, family, friendships, health and so on. Then there's the hard stuff of following God. We are given so much goodness in the gospel: a relationship with God for starters! But also forgiveness, healing, reconciled relationships, a change and liberation of priorities, freedom and new life. All such wonderful and good things. Yet they are all a foretaste. Reconciliation doesn't always happen. We might have an interior freedom but experience hardship after hardship externally. I've been reading the diaries of Etty Hillesum who expereinced just that. She was a young Jewish woman in the 1940s. She experienced such a bliss and joy because of her faith and spirituality that found contentment even in life in a concentration camp. Yet her life ended at the tender age of 29. So much life left to live, so much potential unrealised. *** Resurrection is a reminder and encouragement that our real hope and the true fulfilment of the gospel isn't in the here and now (it begins now, but as a foretaste of what's to come). We aren't to expect ' everything will go my way ' in this life or that I should experience the perennial blessing of God in my earthly life and relationships. Following God will not be easy. The things He calls us to do may not succeed. The people we love may not love us back. The person we pray for may never come to faith. The change we want to see manifest in the world around us may not happen in this life. But resurrection says this: God has not forgotten. God sees it all. God will set right. Unjust deaths will be dealt with. Unfair hardship will be set straight. This life is not all there is. There is so much more to come, that all of this--even the heart-breaking stuff—will pale in significance in comparison. Yes, that doesn't stop it hurting in the present moment. It doesn't stop grief or stem the tide of darkness today. But it allows us to let go. Surrender. Trust. None of this has to be fixed now. We do what we can. But the outcome of it all is not one realised in this life, but the next. So take courage. There is more to come. ******
Peter Murrell, a Scottish political worker and now ex-husband of Nicola Sturgeon (former SNP party leader), was this week sentenced to 5 years in prison for embezzlement. Over the years he had used party money to buy all manner of things. It began with a Play Station 3 but escalated, to buying silver wine coaster, a Jaguar, and a motor home (the list goes on and on). Now embezzlement is not new. Nor is using political office for personal gain. But what struck me were the comments from the lawyer following the sentencing: “ The accused is now an individual overwhelmed by feelings of embarrassment and shame .” Shame. We don’t know if it’s true or not, but I wonder how you respond to hearing such contrition? Responses can range from the judgemental (“ Good! He deserves it ”) to the overly sympathetic (“ Perhaps he’s learned his lesson ”). But regardless of where we individually fall on the sympathy scale, it was an interesting example of what I’ve been thinking about recently: healthy shame . Mr Murrell has undeniably done something wrong and has betrayed the office given to him. He’s estranged from his wife. He’s headed to prison. He was there to represent the people, but instead, he has preyed on the sheep (Ezek. 34:2 has things to say about this). That uncomfortable feeling of recognising where we have transgressed our limits and have become hoodwinked by our own hubris and entitlement. His inadequacies have been publicly exposed. His dirty laundry is out in public. We may be more accustomed to scandal given the internet age, so we may be desensitised to it, but I bet Peter Murrell is not. When it happens to you, it’s painful. It’s uncomfortable. It’s exposing. I’m no psychologist, so I’d recommend John Bradshaw’s book on Healing the Shame That Binds You , if you want to think more about it. Dan Allender and Tremper Longman have a good Christian reflection on different emotions in Cry of the Soul. But I’ve been noticing where healthy shame appears in Scripture. Shame crops up again and again and again. I’m still in the early stages of thinking about where it appears and why, but one clear example of where it occurs is in scenes of divine judgement, both those in the present and those yet to come. God’s People Exposed (1) Daniel 12:1-4 talks about how Jewish believers in the 2 nd century BCE would be raised. The wise and understanding ones who didn’t comply with the political schemes of Antiochus IV would be raised to shine like stars. The others? Those who had aligned themselves with the emperor and in the process forsaken their covenant loyalty to God? They would be faced with everlasting shame (and contempt). (2) Jeremiah 2 has strong words for God’s people of Israel who have got so wrapped up in themselves they have stopped seeking where God is at work and instead are playing with other idols under the illusion of thinking they’re faithful because they keep the Law. They even say they don’t run after false gods (v.23). They’ve tried to seek out gain from the political powers (v.18) rather than humbly submit themselves to God (v.20). The result? They will be put to shame by Egypt (v.36). In an eerily similar statement to the news from Scotland: “As a thief is shamed when caught, So the house of Israel shall be shamed: They, their kings, their officials, Their priests, and their prophets.” (Jer 2:26) And the same is true in the New Testament. Mark 8:38 says this: "Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels." I suspect these are words for people who don’t listen to Jesus’ words in the preceding lines: the message that to follow Jesus is to take up your cross, deny yourself. Surrender your own wants and desires. Those who, like Peter, wanted to avoid death. Avoid suffering. Avoid hardship. Those who wanted a Messiah that came on a horse not a donkey. One who wore a crown of gold, not one of thorns. ** So what a bout us? How do we avoid that fate? Well, like a bill that if you don’t pay now you’ll be paying a lot more later, we need to start facing our inner shame today. Both the healthy shame and the shame we’ve been given that doesn’t belong to us. We might take some time to pray, be still, listen. See what comes up when we think about our uncomfortable feelings that usually stay in the shadows. The great gift of shame is that it shows us our limits. Where we’ve crossed the line and harmed ourselves, others, and our relationship with God. Where we’ve tried to be more than human (or acted in fear that we’re less than human). But shame also dies on exposure. Though I’d also add that shame dies on exposure in the presence of a loving other. We find a person or a group where we can start doing the crazy thing and actually revealing our shameful selves to others. Peter Murrell is full of shame, his lawyer says. The question is: what will he do with it? Will he use this public humiliation to face himself as he is? Does he have people around him to listen to him and to help him through it? I hope so. Genuinely. I hope that for all of us. That we would have the courage to allow the One who is Light to bring light into the midst of our shame today. To bring us out of hiding. Shame is a horrible feeling: I’m not a fan. But I do know that on the other side is acceptance, serenity, and a joy that really does make it worth it. It is true freedom—and it’s only in that freedom I can become who God has made me to be. Because whatever I’ve done, however humiliating, the deepest truth of all is that I’m made in the image of God. I am loved. ****** Photo by K. Mitch Hodge on Unsplash
