Debbie Swindell

As I sit in the quiet today, reflecting on matters of the heart—both literal and spiritual—my thoughts return to moments that have shaped our family’s story. My husband became a heart patient at an early age, and now, years later, our daughter walks a similar path. Their journeys are daily reminders of fragility, resilience, and the mysterious grace that sustains us. While doctors care for their physical hearts, it is the hand of God—steady and sovereign—that ultimately holds them both.

The human heart is a marvel. It beats tirelessly, day after day, pumping life through every inch of our bodies. And yet, despite its strength, it wears down. Our bodies age. Our emotions fray. Our spirits get weary. Whether it’s a diagnosis, a loss, or simply the daily grind of life, we’re all reminded that we are not limitless. We are not God.

But here’s the beautiful, life-giving truth: we were never meant to be.

We are not self-sufficient. We do not create our next breath or command our next heartbeat. Everything we are—every pulse, every step, every thought—is sustained by the sheer mercy of God. This is what theologians call common grace: the undeserved goodness of God extended to all people, believers and unbelievers alike (Matthew 5:45). It’s the oxygen in our lungs and the sunrise in our window. It’s the miracle of a heart that keeps beating, even when we forget to notice.

But beyond that, for those who belong to Christ, there is an even deeper grace—saving grace—that anchors us not only in this life but for eternity. When we acknowledge our limitations and weaknesses, we make room for God’s strength to shine through. The Apostle Paul wrote, “For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 12:10). Our frailty becomes the backdrop for His power.

This is the mystery and beauty of the Christian life: God doesn’t discard our weaknesses; He redeems them.

Our salvation is not just a ticket to heaven—it’s the beginning of a transformation. The Holy Spirit works within us, sanctifying us, shaping us, and strengthening us in ways we could never accomplish alone. We are bound to Christ in a covenant relationship. Our identity is no longer anchored to what we can do or how long we can hold ourselves together. It’s secured in who Christ is and what He has done.

And that leads us to one of the most awe-inspiring truths about God: His aseity.

Unlike us, God is completely self-sufficient. He needs nothing outside of Himself to exist. The word aseity comes from the Latin a sei—“from Himself.” God is uncreated, eternal, and utterly independent. This may sound abstract, but it has deeply personal implications. Because God is not needy or dependent, He is fully able to meet our needs. He is the fountain of all life, all wisdom, all strength.

In Acts 17, the Apostle Paul stood before the philosophers of Athens and declared:

“The God who made the world and everything in it—He is Lord of heaven and earth—does not live in temples made by hands. Neither is He served by human hands, as though He needed anything, since He Himself gives everyone life and breath and all things.” (Acts 17:24–25)

Paul’s confidence didn’t come from his eloquence; it came from his theology. He knew who God is. He knew that God is not reliant on creation, but rather creation is utterly dependent on Him. That knowledge gave Paul peace, purpose, and boldness—even in a skeptical world.

So what does this mean for us?

It means that when our hearts feel weak, when the future feels uncertain, when we come face-to-face with the limits of our humanity—we have a place to run. Not to ourselves. Not to the world. But to the One who is never weary, never lacking, and never caught off guard.

It means that in the face of sickness, struggle, or sorrow, we can rest in the care of a God who does not need, but who freely gives.

So today, let us not shy away from our weakness. Let us lean into it. Let us acknowledge our dependence and, with gratitude, receive the grace that flows from the One who is wholly self-sufficient. And may our hearts—no matter how fragile—beat with renewed confidence in the God who holds us fast.

Father, You are the Creator of all things, needing nothing, yet choosing to love and sustain us. Forgive us for the times we rely on our own strength. Teach us to embrace our dependence on You with joy. Strengthen our weary hearts and help us trust You with each breath. May our lives reflect Your sufficiency and grace. In Christ’s name, Amen.