Too Sweet for Words

“On the good ship, Lollipop, it’s a sweet trip to a candy shop
Where bon-bons play on the sunny beach of Peppermint Bay.&rdquo

You may be familiar with those words. If not, I refer you to the 1934 movie, “Bright Eyes,” starring Shirley Temple.

As a little girl, Shirley Temple seemed to me to be the picture of childhood perfection. She had the perfect hair, eyes, and teeth. She sang beautifully. Even if she became cross, the mood didn’t last long. Then off she went again, laughing, singing, and smiling. Everyone adored her. If they didn’t adore her at the beginning of the movie, they did before the credits ran.

That’s who I wanted to be: the Shirley Temple of little girls. After all, I knew all the right stuff, didn’t I? Go to church, pray, read your Bible every day, and God would smile down upon you. Being obedient would be easy. Temper tantrums would be few and far between. There would never be an argument between siblings. Everyone would love you. If they didn’t, they would before long.

Many would say I lived in a naïve dream world. Maybe I did. But I still wanted to be that good little girl who made others smile and got along with everyone.

As I grew into adolescence, I realized that striving for this ambition was, while a bit idealistic, a safe way to keep out of trouble. Well, for the most part.

I also realized that this ambition was a good way to be treated as an outsider. After all, what kid wants to be with someone who’s such a “pleaser”? I didn’t want to be a teacher’s pet, but I also didn’t want to disappoint any of my instructors. I didn’t want to be a “know it all,” but I also didn’t want to appear as if I didn’t know an answer, if I truly did. The hardest part of it all became trying to please everyone, including my friends. The questions became: when to reveal a known transgression of another, and when to keep my mouth shut; when to alert a teacher of a missed collecting of assignments, and when to let her remember on her own; when to tell a friend their actions might lead them to trouble, and when to just let them learn a lesson; when to go out with that hormonal teenage boy, and when to graciously decline; and, when to tell them the truth of the Gospel, and when to hope their parents were taking them to church.

Since facing those decisions in early my early teens, the questions have changed. But the overriding problem has remained: How do I avoid being seen as a holier-than-thou, goody two-shoes? How do I live a life pleasing to God without causing others to see me as trying to make them look bad? How do I keep everyone happy?

My answer as a teen was to occasionally say or do something “bad.” The periodic dropping of an off-color word or joke would make me appear not quite so “squeaky clean,” right? I soon discovered, though, this didn’t earn me acceptance. It only caused others to question my integrity.

Even as an adult, I have faced this challenge. If I admit to not reading my Bible as much as I know I should, or praying just a little less, won’t people see me as a “regular person” and not as a super-pious bore?

You may be reading all this thinking, “Well, all I’m really coming away with is that you’re a nice person, but not very humble.”

I can’t really comment on whether I’m humble or not. After all, the moment a person declares, “I’m humble,” well, they’re not. Honestly, I don’t see myself as humble. I see myself as someone who desires the approval of men way too much.

Our parish mission this week was taught by Deacon Harold Burke-Sivers. One question he posed to us was this: What Goliath is keeping you from living the life God made you to live?

Are we so afraid of what others think of us, that we are afraid to pursue God with everything we are? Does the opinion of a coworker so affect us, that we are unsure we should share the story of God’s work in our own life? Does the comfort of sitting among the uninvolved cause us to shy away from stepping forward to participate fully in the life of our parish? Or do we work as hard as we can, so we can show our pastor just how holy we are? What motivates us to be the person God created us to be?

I close with an admission. I have spent most of my life trying make everyone happy. If being good was the way to do that, then that’s what I had to do. If an occasional forced, public blunder was the way to do that, then that’s what I had to do. I had to keep everyone pacified, so that’s how I have lived my life. Not a bad goal—but it’s impossible, isn’t it?

This Lent, I have learned a very important lesson: The only One I have to concern myself with is the One who gave His Son to live, to die, to rise again, and ascend to the Father. Most of all, I just need to be the “me” God wants me to be! If I can take an honest look inside, and know my motives are in line with that goal, I have no need to fear the Goliath of opinion.

Now, please excuse me, while I go find a lollipop.