Real and Perceived Needs

Today Stephen, the boys, and I did a little shopping for Baby Charlotte's bedroom. It's amazing what we still need to buy for her, despite already having two children. I think the biggest problem with that is that the boys are still using most of their baby stuff--cribs, bedding, etc. We have to get a new crib, nursery bedding, window coverings, lamps, other room accessories, and some girl clothing. Emphasis on the word "some": we have several tubs worth of clothing that the boys wore that is perfectly appropriate and gender-neutral, so we are restraining ourselves when it comes to purchasing too many girly clothes. We have tried to caution our family to show the same restraint, but I know it's hard--it's so fun to shop for baby girls!

Anyway, we recently sold a piece of furniture that we weren't using, and it fetched a great price at an auction here in town. We are so thankful for the little extra money that it afforded us for baby purchases, since we wouldn't really have anything with which to buy her few things otherwise. I have enough for bedding, curtains (maybe), and a crib, but there are still some things I had hoped to buy that we won't be able to, at least not right now. And I'm learning (slowly) to be okay with that.

I am learning more and more about real and perceived needs, and Baby Charlotte's room is only helping to teach me this lesson. The definition of "need" is so slippery and subjective. Many Americans "need" a car for each family member, a cell phone, a house with a bedroom and bathroom for each person living under the roof, the latest electronic devices, designer furniture, huge wardrobes of clothing, etc., etc. I credit myself with being much simpler--I only want a complete nursery for my little girl, with cute, if not custom, bedding, a couple of feminine lamps, a slipcover for the ratty old club chair that we inherited from our house's previous owner, some nicely lined curtains that will keep out the gusts of cold air come this winter, and a few accessories. I start to feel prideful, as I reflect on how I find the best deals by shopping around, do projects myself instead of paying others to do them for me, and settle for things from Target instead of frequenting specialized baby boutiques.

Then I read a Chicago Tribune article about the vast famine that continues to grip a long-starving Ethiopia, a famine that is killing over 400 children a day, and for a moment, I remember the real definition of "need."

What does this baby really need? She has a home, a bed, clothing, food, and a complete family who is so anxious to meet her and shower her with love. How many babies enter the world without even this most basic set of needs met? How many babies leave the world only knowing neglect, despair, and hate? Will she somehow be happier if she has a color-coordinated nursery and definitely feminine clothing? Isn't it enough that she is clean, clothed, loved, fed, and diligently cared for?

Yes, it is enough. These are her real needs.

When my thoughts turn toward needs and desires, I am pointed to Matthew, where Jesus reminds us to lay our worries and wants at God's feet:

"'Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? ... Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? ... For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.'" (Matthew 6:25-34)

Of course Jesus has a lot more to say about need itself in other books and chapters, but I tend to worry when I don't think I am providing enough for my children, and relearning the "do not worry about tomorrow" lesson is always appreciated.

Lord, save me from a skewed perception. Fulfill my real needs, and help me learn contentment. Aid me in teaching this contentment to my children, and let it shine through in my daily attitudes so that others may see your true and perfect plan for our lives. Amen.