I Am Needy

Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven.

—Matthew 6:1

I’d been awake since 3: 30 a.m. Couldn’t sleep for all the excitement. Or was it anxiety? Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference.

It was a big day. After months of anticipation and preparation, I launched a new online study of my first book, a five-week conversation about how to make peace with an unexpected life. It was a worthy project with potential to spark connection and life change. I knew this. And I was thrilled about what God might do.

But I also felt terrified. What if no one signed up? What if the content turned out to be terrible? What if I said something dumb or insensitive or did something foolish in front of all those people? What if, in the end, I came up short?

I checked my email no less than a dozen times that morning. I stalked Facebook approximately every 43.9 seconds. Aaaaaaand I might’ve carried my phone around in my palm for hours.

I hate to admit it, but I acted a bit needy.

Now, let’s not make T-shirts out of the title. For the love of my ever-dwindling self-esteem, my neediness needn’t be broadcast any more than it already is.

It helps to know I’m not the only one. During one of my many online excursions that morning I noticed dozens of other men, women, and teenagers working hard to solicit affirmation. Countless bathroom mirror selfies and posts about personal achievements. Uncomfortable disclosures about private relationships. Self-righteous sermons about controversial topics. Long-winded descriptions of personal demons.

I’m all for authenticity and relationship. But honestly. Have we ever had a more self-consumed society? I don’t think so, as evidenced by the massive growth of social media platforms. Whether it’s inappropriate SnapChat videos or indiscriminate Facebook posts, our neediness is obvious. We’re desperate for someone to see us. Even if it means we compromise our self-respect in the process.

Now, lest you protest, let’s clear one thing up. To be needy is simply to be in need. To have a requirement for living that is yet unfilled. That makes every one of us needy to some extent. Because hours after breakfast, we’ll need to eat and drink again. As humans, we’re made with needs that must be fulfilled to sustain life. And not just food, clothing, and shelter.

We’re made to need love. Acceptance. Purpose. And a place in community. That means our neediness is not unique to our generation. But now we expose it for all to see in wide-screen, HD clarity, God help us. Still not convinced? Spend fifteen minutes on YouTube or watching an episode of reality TV. We are a desperate people. And in our desperation, we’ve become broadcasters of our neediness.

Jesus didn’t have much use for false fronts. Whether watching religious leaders flaunting their false righteousness or wannabe disciples manipulating for attention, He knew the depth of need lurking beneath all of the drama.

It’s not that He didn’t have compassion for our humanity. I think He made it very clear otherwise. He just knew we’d never be satisfied with human responses to our desperate demands. When you and I pretend to be someone other than who we really are in an attempt to garner more affirmations and accolades, we’re doomed to disappointment. Because eventually our truest selves will show themselves plain. And human love will prove to be the less than perfect gift that it is. As long as we keep trying to meet our deepest needs in the shallowest pools, we’ll keep bumping our heads on the bottom. Not only will our desperation become painfully obvious to everyone around us, but we’ll wear out the world in our attempts to find our fill.

Only one person sees the true extent of our neediness and isn’t the least bit put off by it. Only He can fill our vacuous souls with what we truly crave, once and for all:

Only God knows how to turn a needy heart into a satisfied one. Rather than repeatedly jumping in the puddles of shallow affirmations, let’s dive deep into the heart of the Father’s affection. Those who are needy never leave His presence empty. Admit your need to the Father. Fifteen minutes with Him will fill you more and for longer than fifteen minutes anywhere else.

Far from being a sign of weakness, only surrender to something or someone bigger than us is sufficiently strong to free us from the prison of our egocentricity. Only surrender is powerful enough to overcome our isolation and alienation.

—DAVID G. BENNER, SURRENDER TO LOVE