April 15, 2026 | by Rebecca OBrien
My name is Becs, and I’m a stuffaholic.1
If we were having coffee, I’d point to my overflowing diaper bag as proof. I might take a sip from my name-brand water bottle and roll my eyes at myself. I’d probably hide my Amazon purchase history. I’d tell you how I scoured the internet for hours during each pregnancy, set on finding the perfect sleep-inducing, aesthetically pleasing, on-sale baby gear.
Then I’d tell you about the clutter in my home, throw up my hands, and add a book about becoming a minimalist to my cart.
Is it any wonder that I (along with the rest of the U.S.) powered a projected $32.03 billion in 2025 ad revenue on Instagram alone?2
I’m sick, friend. I want what I don’t have. I want what I don’t need.
What do I actually need? A doctor.
Fortunately, there’s one who can heal me—and you, if you’ve seen similar symptoms in your life—from the inside out.
His name, of course, is Jesus.
Choosing the Creation Over the Creator
My obsession is nothing new to Jesus. After all, he was with the Father in the beginning when the first woman listened to the first lie and stole “the fruit of the tree in the midst of the garden”—the first thing she’d ever been told she couldn’t have.
But the serpent said to the woman, “You will not surely die. For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” (Gen. 3:4–5)
Eve nurtured a desire to be like the King of the Universe—not by emulating his character, but by believing she could outsmart him and exploit his gracious boundaries.
Instead of trusting him to provide all she needed, she believed a created thing was worth more than her relationship with her creator.
Idolatry, Anxiety, and Trust
When Jesus came to earth as a man, he knew what we needed to hear.
Early in the Sermon on the Mount, he tells us that lust and anger in our hearts is just as sinful as acting on those lustful impulses (Matt. 5:27-30). It’s a dire warning against lusting after stuff.
Then, instead of making excuses for our sin (which is my tendency), Jesus presents reasons to put our idolatry to death:
“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal.” (Matt. 6:19–20)
Why would I try to preserve that which cannot be preserved? Why would I place my trust in decay, rather than in the one with the power to give eternal life?
“No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and money.” (Matt. 6:24)
Why would I give my affections to something besides the living God who made me, loves me, and provides for me?
“Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.” (Matt. 6:28–29)
Oh me of little faith—do I not know my heavenly father is greater than my fear of lack?
Then comes perhaps the hardest teaching Jesus challenges us with—a command to put God first, and trust that we’ll have what we need.
Then comes perhaps the hardest teaching Jesus challenges us with—a command to put God first, and trust that we’ll have what we need:
“But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” (Matt. 6:33)
Dear sister, I know this can be hard to believe.
Because here’s the truth: This doesn’t mean we’ll always have the things we think we need. Jesus is calling us to leave our anxiety at the cross anyway.
Yes, that’s easier said than done. But the Bible provides guidance here, too—it’s full of commands to remind ourselves of the Lord’s promises.
For me, that often looks like reflecting on moments I’ve personally experienced his kindness to me. Like the time we got notice that our mortgage was going up. It wasn’t by much, but it felt like a budget buster. In the same stack of mail, we got our annual Costco reward check. The check covered a month of the mortgage increase.
We still needed to figure out our budget for 11 more months. But Jesus taught us to ask for our daily bread (Matt. 6:11). And the Lord gave the Israelites manna daily, not annually (Ex. 16). It felt like a gentle physical reminder of a spiritual reality. You can trust me, daughter. I WILL provide. Maybe not how you expect, or even want, but I won’t forsake you.
When Jesus says, “All these things will be added to you”—after mentioning our anxiety over having enough to eat, drink, and wear—we can trust that, when we seek him first, he will provide for what we truly need.
Freedom Is Ours
Once we’ve given our anxieties about our basic needs to the Lord, we still have to be on guard. Every time I log onto social media, I remember how easily I covet what others have.
If I don’t believe that God is better than the fruit he’s made, I’ll be a slave to my desire for more.
But Christ calls us into freedom, and it’s true freedom. You and I are free from the chokehold of materialism. We’re free from the sinkhole of greed. We can follow scripture as it teaches us to repent of our desire for stuff rather than for God, to release the anxiety that tightens our grip on our things, and to seek his kingdom while knowing material blessings are not our prize. All while pressing on heavenward, toward the only one who satisfies.
About Becs OBrien

Becs OBrien is a Jesus-follower and writer who lives in Charlotte, NC, with her husband and their three young kids. She came to faith while attending Christ Memorial Church, where she also got to watch NETS grow from one pastor’s dream to the network it is today. Becs and her family love being outdoors, reading together, and carrying on her family’s tradition of laughing over ridiculous faces at dinner.
- Ironically, this nickname (for Rebecca) came from the 2009 movie Confessions of a Shopaholic. ↩︎
- https://www.adweek.com/media/instagram-will-drive-half-of-metas-ad-revenue-in-2025/ ↩︎

