Needy Much

 I've always been very independent. The thought of being "needy" made me cringe. An "independent woman who needs no man" was my quote of the year for several years in my early teenage life. I did everything I knew how to meet my own needs. I wanted to fix my own car and open my own pickle jar. I didn't want to ask for a hug or be one of those super emotional girls so I learned the art of giving myself a hug. (Google it, it's actually a thing!) I wanted to be known for being many things, but being needy was out of the question. 

Looking back I've often tried to figure out where and when I decided it was a weakness to have needs that required other people's help. I'm not exactly sure I know. All I know is that I wanted to be capable. I hated being underestimated. I hated being told I couldn't do something because I was a girl. Few things give me more joy than accomplishing something someone said I wouldn't be able to do. Because somehow I felt the need to measure up. To accomplish something great. To be applauded for my efforts. The need to be recognized fueled my ministry, my self-worth, and my joy. I was a parched desert desperate to be seen as a whole person. But my fear of coming up short kept me from doing anything that had the potential to fail. 

I went to different Bible camps every winter for several years as a young teenager. They were always such a good time. But every year I had a massive mental struggle. I wanted to be the girl that loved everyone and made friends with everyone. The girl that wasn't afraid and the girl that was full of joy. The girl that made tea and gave back massages and tried new things. But the crippling detrimental fear of not being good enough held me back. It pressed me into the corners as I watched my role models live out what I so desperately wanted to be recognized for. If I laughed too much I was afraid I was annoying. If I played volleyball I was terrorized by the fear of being the person holding the team back. I flatly refused to participate in sports or music or anything that drew me out of the shadow because instead of learning from the people who were better than me, I froze in fear of not living up to my own standards. Anyone that paid me the slightest attention became my hero. I smiled and studied and sang and lived, but at night I cried myself to sleep reliving the day, convinced I had only made a fool of myself and that everyone else was going to sleep thinking about how needy I was. 

I often wish I could take younger me by the hand. Make her a cup of tea and sit down with her and explain what no one explained to me then. 

To be needy is to be human. 

To be needy is to let go of pressure and expectations. 

To be needy is to see yourself in the true light of the gospel. 

To be needy is to run into the arms of the Father. 

Being needy is recognizing our weakness and opening ourselves to the outpouring of HIS strength. Being needy is being humble enough to admit that "I am not enough." It is telling the world "I can't." But most importantly, being needy brings us to the foot of the cross where grace grows like weeds. Where my needs are met with His enough-ness. My lack is met with his completeness. My undone-ness is erased as he cries, again, "It is done- finished."  

And then we open our hearts and our minds and our bodies and our souls and we cry hot salty tears that trace rivers into His arms and run down through the holes in his hands. As we let go of every fear, every expectation, every lie we empty ourselves of ourselves. He, with tears running down his cheeks, begins to gently fill you up again. A little strength, a little hope, a lot of love. Some laughter, some tears, a sense of belonging. As He refills you with his purpose and his plan you begin to see things through your tears. And it is shocking. Your weaknesses are no less weak. Your needs are just as needy. Your incompetence is no more competent. He sees the flicker of confusion and smiles. 

You will always be needy, dear friend. You will never measure up. You will always have weaknesses and there will always be someone better than you. So the sooner you accept that the sooner you can move on. The reckless striving to be enough can cease the moment you realize you will never be enough and let the enough-ness of Christ fill you from top to bottom. The cold silver willpower of meeting your own needs comes to a clanging halt as you embrace your neediness and let the Lord be everything you need. 

Being needy changed me. I've become softer. I've become that girl that feels everything very deeply. I cry during worship and I laugh when the joke is funny. On the days the pickle jar is too stuck I seek assistance. I've learned to make allowances for my limitations. I'm learning how to receive gentlemanly behavior with thankfulness. I'm not very good at accepting help and I'm even worse at joining community. I still back up into a corner at the feeling of vulnerability. I still live with a heck load of shame. To be human is to be deeply needy. But those deep needs are met with the greater deepness of the love, grace, forgiveness, and mercy that flows out of the foot of the cross in greater measure than you will use in a lifetime. In one hundred lifetimes. So let your needs be met, let your lack be completed, and let the goodness of God saturate your humanness. 

In closing, the words of this song are the tears I cry into the hands of the One who holds me. 

"In need of grace, In need of love

In need of mercy raining down from high above

In need of strength, in need of peace

In need of things that only You can give to me

In need of Christ, the perfect Lamb

My refuge strong, the great I Am

This is my song, my humble plea

I am Your child, I am in need."