the birthday gift.

Remember how I told you I gave myself the birthday gift of a new hobby this year? (which I’m enjoying immensely by the way).

Well I wanted to tell you about the other birthday gift I decided to give myself now that I’m 32 and securely “in my thirties.” A conversation I had with some girl friends this weekend reminded me of it and it’s this:

I’m giving myself permission to stop worrying about what people think of me.

You may be chuckling right now. You may be thinking, Oh that’s all!? Well good luck with that one!

I know, I know. But here’s the thing:

I’ve felt this gradual shift in the last couple years. And an even bigger shift in the last few months. The new thought process goes something like this: I’m getting older. My life is full — not “crazy busy,” just very full. And either my energy level is waning or maybe I’m just becoming more realistic about my limitations.

But whatever the reason, I do not have extra energy to worry about what people think of me.

Or maybe a better way to say it is, I’m losing the desire to spend the energy I have worrying what people think.

Does it sound like I got this from some empowering mom blog? Nope. I actually got it from Jesus.

David said something in a sermon a couple weeks ago that I can’t get out of my head: he said, “Have you ever noticed how little time and energy Jesus gave to worrying about people’s opinions of Him? He was constantly being misunderstood and criticized, and often by the kinds of people you and I most want to please: His church leaders, His family, His best friends.”

But Jesus didn’t let those opinions govern His decisions. He just moved on with the mission God gave Him, and there was such a peace and a settled-ness about Him (not that He didn’t get hurt or emotional or angry). He didn’t get rattled to His core by what people thought. That wasn’t ever His motivation.

I’m a born people-pleaser. I’m sensitive. I’m empathetic. I’m a rule-follower. I can feel the moods of people around me. That can be a strength because it makes me a compassionate person who feels joy and pain with people.

It can also be my prison and my idol.

I find so many excuses to elevate other people’s feelings and their opinion of me over God.

I think us people-pleasers are always going to be tempted by this idol. But do you know who I think is tempted by it even more? Those of us who are people-pleasers in ministry.

We love God and love people. We feel honored to be apart of God’s work in the world. But it’s subtly tempting to think ministry equals pleasing people. We’re supposed to be serving them, right? We’re supposed to deny ourselves and pour out our lives for others.

So we excuse the obsessive people-pleasing and obsessive guarding of our image/reputation. We encourage it even — in our own lives and in the lives of others in ministry. We don’t say no. We don’t set boundaries. We say, “Be careful not to offend.” We let our day rise or fall on a comment someone makes. We do what it takes to not let that family down. Or if we do let them down, we feel like failures. We think, God is using me as an example to others, and let that govern our decision-making.

Well guess what? That’s not the ministry God is calling anyone to and certainly not the ministry Jesus had. He’s been showing me a different way, slowly but surely, these last few years. And this year, my thirty-second year, is still brand new, and I want to learn it even more.

A new friend asked on Friday night what my desire is for Columbia Presbyterian Church. And I told her the passion I’ve known for many months now, that my desire — especially for the women — is for our church to be a safe place. I want a group of people with differences on everything from parenting to education to diet to politics to income to spiritual gifts to be able to gather together and feel accepted and encouraged. I want to be a safe place both for people in our church and for people outside of it.

I don’t want other women to be like me, I want them to be exactly who God created them to be. I want them to learn a little more of who they are created to be as a result of being at Columbia Pres.

I want them to feel, “Here’s a group of people who have my back. Even if they don’t understand every decision I make, I don’t worry about what they say when I’m not in the room. They let me be free to be me. They’re cheering me on and cheering on the work God’s doing in my life.”

And I’m realizing more and more that this vision for the ladies of Columbia Pres will ring hollow inasmuch as I’m consumed with worry about my own image.

I’m learning that it’s inspiring for people around me to watch God freeing me from this worry, just as I’ve grown by watching that process in others. It lets them breathe a sigh of relief and think, Maybe I don’t have to worry either. It lets them understand that they’ll say “no” to some things so they can say “yes” to others, that people won’t understand all of their family’s decisions, that they’ll disappoint people (even perhaps David and me) and we will disappoint them and that’s okay.

God will use this to grow us all up together in Him and to bring us more freedom to love and worship Him rather than idolize each other. It lets us begin extending grace to others around us, to offer them permission not to worry about what we think either.

So this is the year I let go of the the endless questions:

. . . Do people stereotype me as a homeschooling mom?
. . . Are they offended that my kids don’t say ‘yes ma’am’ and ‘yes sir?’
. . . What if they find out I don’t buy organic milk?
. . . Are they shocked that I only pray five minutes a day?
. . . Did I totally disappoint them by saying no to their invitation?
. . . Did I totally disappoint them by getting off Facebook?
. . . Do they think I have too much fun and should be doing more ministry?
. . . Do they think I’m a bad friend?
. . . Do they think I’m a bad mom?
. . . What will they think of this blog post?

Etc. Etc. Etc.

Enough already.

I don’t want to spend the energy I have asking those questions. I want to spend it loving hard and enjoying life and getting to know Jesus better, thinking about Him and not so much about myself.

You may need to remind me of my birthday gift. Because these things don’t happen overnight. But I’ve tasted enough to have great hopes for the next 32 years.

Want to join me?