There is something deeply human about looking for approval. We say something in a conversation and almost instinctively look around the room to see how people responded. Did they smile? Did they nod? Did they agree? A child does much the same thing. He accomplishes something, says something funny, or tries something new, and then immediately searches the faces around him. He wants to know, “Did you see me? Did I do well? Are you pleased with me?”

That desire for affirmation does not simply disappear when we grow older. We just become more sophisticated in the ways we seek it. We look for approval from our friends, our family, our coworkers, our congregation, our social media audience, or whatever group matters to us. There is nothing inherently wrong with appreciating encouragement. Scripture itself tells us to encourage one another. The danger comes when approval becomes our compass.

If the approval of people determines whether we feel secure, whether we speak, whether we act, or whether we obey God, then we have given people a place in our lives that belongs to God alone. Paul wrote, “For do I now persuade men, or God? Or do I seek to please men? For if I yet pleased men, I should not be the servant of Christ” (Galatians 1:10). Paul was not saying that we should become insensitive to people or unconcerned about how our actions affect others. He was identifying the ultimate source of his approval. His life could not be governed by the shifting opinions of those around him.

Human approval is unstable. The people who applaud you today may criticize you tomorrow. The crowd that agrees with you in one room may reject you in another. If our sense of worth depends upon the response of the room, then the room will always control us. Jesus lived differently. He said, “I do always those things that please him” (John 8:29). His primary concern was not, “How will people respond?” but, “Is the Father pleased?”

That changes everything. There will be moments when obedience to God is affirmed by those around us. There will also be moments when faithfulness is misunderstood, criticized, or ignored. If we live for human applause, those moments can shake us. But if our deepest desire is to please God, we can remain steady even when the room is silent.

Perhaps one of the most revealing questions we can ask ourselves is this: When I speak, serve, give, lead, or obey, whose face am I looking for afterward? Am I scanning the room for affirmation, or am I living with the quiet confidence that what matters most is the approval of the One who sees the heart?

Encouragement from people is a gift, but approval from people is a poor foundation for identity. Let people encourage you. Let wise people correct you. Be grateful when others affirm you. But do not hand them the authority to determine your worth or your faithfulness.

So perhaps the response is not merely to admit that we care too much about what people think. The response is to deliberately return that authority to God. We may need to pray, “Lord, free me from the need to be applauded. Free me from the fear of being misunderstood. Free me from measuring my faithfulness by the reaction of the room. Teach me to live before Your face.”

Before we speak, before we act, before we decide, maybe the question should no longer be, “What will they think?” but, “Lord, what will please You?” And after we obey, instead of immediately looking around for affirmation, perhaps we should learn to look up.

There is a freedom that comes when the room no longer has the final word.

The voice that matters most is the voice of the Father. The great goal of the Christian life is not that everyone around us would say, “Well done.” It is that one day we would hear Him say it.

Human approval can encourage us, but it must never govern us.

Stop looking around the room for the verdict God alone has the right to give.