Reading
Am I now seeking human approval, or God’s approval? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still pleasing people, I would not be a servant of Christ.
Galatians 1:10
Reflection
The idea of approval and belonging is a funny thing. Each of us—regardless of what we say or how we might protest—cares about what others think. That’s not inherently bad. We want to belong. We want to know we’re doing good. We want to know our presence means something.
In healthy seasons, we juggle this well—receiving both praise and critique as invitations to grow. But when we’re stretched thin or spun out, we start to need approval to feel like we matter. We measure our worth in accomplishments, give too much of ourselves to others, and feel the hollow echo of burnout.
Which brings me to the Birds of Paradise. (I’m not sure where Planet Earth ranks in my most-influential list, but it’s probably higher than it should be.)
These birds—the males, at least—spend their days grooming feathers, building nests, and perfecting elaborate dances. Their technicolor plumage makes them visible to predators. Their choreographed rituals take all their energy. And most of the time, the result is rejection. But still, they dance.
In a way, we’re not that different. We work for applause, tweak ourselves for approval, shape our image to win affection. And when it works, it feels like purpose. But when it doesn’t, we risk forgetting that our worth was never meant to come from others in the first place.
The voice that matters most—the one that spoke the cosmos into being—is also the one whispering our name.
I sometimes wonder what would shift in me if I stopped chasing every other voice and tuned my heart to God’s. What would happen if the approval I longed for came not from applause, but from the quiet voice that already calls me beloved?
I suppose we don’t have to wonder. Paul’s story gives us the answer: when we stop dancing for approval, we start walking in our calling.
Prayer
Lord, you are the Maker and Creator of all things—
Good and true.
You call me, know me, form me, and love me.
Let your voice be the one that changes me—
Open my ears that I may hear it.
Soften my heart that I may believe it.
And move my body that I may become it.
Amen.
