Needing...

I'm a mom.

I'm a perfectionist.

I'm entirely too hard on myself and suffer bouts of extreme self-loathing.

Mix all these things together and you have a woman who is driven to be needed.

I want my kids to need me.
I want my husband to need me...actually, my husband does need me, but not as much as I want him to need me.

I want my family to need me.

I want my friends to need me, which isn't very fulfilling because I only have about six and they are all adequately self-reliant.
I want my church to need me, though I don't really want them to capitalize on that need because I'm too busy.

I even want God to need me.

I'm a little embarrassed to admit this but I kind of always thought God did need me.

I'm not sure why I thought this, but there you have it.

Maybe this insatiable desire to be needed is a result of being the eldest child. Maybe it stems from this odd feeling of responsibility I feel over every person and every circumstance. Maybe it's just part of who I am.

All I know is that I was absolutely STARTLED last Sunday driving home from church, because it struck me...God doesn't really need me! Can you imagine? I almost had to pull the car over. I glanced in the rear view mirror and assured myself the girls were sitting in the backseat. The few moments I couldn't catch my breath after discovering God didn't need me (the audacity!) I wanted to reassure myself my children still existed and were still young enough to need me. They were there, both with their heads thrown back and mouth open in the unaffected sleep of children. So they were there, but at the moment they definitely didn't need me.

I turned my attention back to the Lord.

"Are you sure you don't need me? For anything?" I asked.

I don't like to boast (well, I try not to like boasting at least) but I'm quite talented. You should see what I can do with nothing but a cast iron skillet and a chicken breast. Or give me a word and I can craft an entire world from it, entertaining toddlers for hours (maybe only minutes, but it feels like hours). I'm convinced I can do anything I set my mind to unless it requires an instrument in which case I'm happy to turn it over to my husband, Shane.

You can understand why I was surprised God didn't need me.

But then it struck me, like the proverbial lightening rod sent from heaven, there are millions of people in the world that are talented. Much more than I. Millions of people that are strong, dedicated, smart, powerful, charming and passionate. I'm just a tiny like guppy. Not much of anything, really. Sure, I can cook. I can write, make jewelery and organize. I'm a good mom. A fair wife (working on that) and I think I'm a fabulous friend (I only have six, though, so maybe I'm not that great of a friend...)

But those things don't really matter because there is always going to be someone else that is more than I can ever be. Also, at the risk of sounding obvious, He is God. He can fold the earth in on itself with a snap of His finger. He can blow the stars out with just a breath. Why would He need one insignificant SAHM from southern Ohio? Why would he need anyone?

I sat in my car, ready to pout and sink into a full-blown pity party, when God rescued me from myself.

So still and quiet I just barely heard it above the hum of my engine and the snore of my three year old, came that little whisper I've grown to love.

"I may not need you, but I want you."

What a privilege! The God of the universe, the one that created the sea and the sky and the planets and LIFE wants me!

Me!

Being wanted is so much better than being needed.