In her novel Gilead, author Marilynne Robinson lets us in on the letter an aged Anglican priest named John Ames writes to his young son. The entire narrative is actually one long—almost rambling—letter. Married in his sixties to a much younger woman, Ames finds himself in poor health and realizes he will soon be dead. As the letter’s pages turn, we hear this dying father attempting to do what every father should—help his son know his own identity, who he is.

We all need to know who we are, whether we have a dad to help us or not. The first step to knowing who we are, though, is to know who we aren’t. We are not God. And for most of our history, we humans have struggled with this point. In Eden, Adam and Eve sinned because they failed to believe there was a fundamental difference between God and them (Genesis 3:1-4). Later, when God gave Israel the Ten Commandments, He intended these directives to be the primary principles for them to understand their base identity. It’s important to note, then, that the initial four commandments centered on declaring how God was “other” than them, above them—and must be reverenced as such (Exodus 20:1-11).

We hear this truth again when Hannah rejoiced because God did the impossible. He gave the infertile woman a son. She knew she was helpless to fix herself, that her hope was based in a God who was far greater than she was (1 Samuel 2:2).

Scripture invites us to declare God as our sovereign Lord. Once we rest in the conviction that we are not God, we begin to discover in turn who we actually are—and we find joy in our dependence on God’s kindness and mercy.