The Folly of Pride

Here's another a subject I am well acquainted with, being the reformed but sometimes extremely back-slidden people-pleaser I am. People-pleasing sounds like an innocent variety of sin, but it has pride at its root, any way we frame it.

"What will people think?" cannot rule my thoughts, decisions, and actions. I remind myself of this almost daily. Why have I battled and coddled this ridiculous sin so long before acknowledging its folly?

For anyone still under the delusion that missionaries are beyond such petty transgressions, let me refer you back to my friend Lila's book, Diving Off the Pedestal (Demystifying the Full-Time Ministry Mystique).

You can't imagine the silly burdens we carry unnecessarily when we worry what others think. On the field, I used to look at my hideous Guatemalan house and wonder, "What would my mom's Sunday School class think?" Then I would be visited by missionaries allocated further out in the boonies and not even have to wonder what they thought, as I was told directly what a "palace" I lived in compared to their situation. Ah, condemnation to a soul that is barely surviving, a direct blow to the heart of the people-pleaser I was.

As my home here in Mexico gradually became more comfortable and color-coordinated (a vice I already confessed regarding the purple water jugs), not to mention functional (an automatic washing machine no less, a Kitchenaid mixer, and a full-sized oven!), I began to fight the urge to defend my current standard of living. Mostly I was defensive around my "poor missionary" friends allocated further out in the boonies. Though they never spoke a single condemning word, I sensed judgment. Why should I have such a nice home when they lived under such rugged village conditions?

I still have no answer for this, but I mention it as a background for explaining the tension I live with as long as I care what others think. The bottom line is that I must make my ways pleasing to God and Him alone. It's an ongoing battle.

Returning to the US every few summers, I am faced with inevitable temptation to care what people think. Again. Will our supporters think we are too presumptuous driving a 2000 Landcruiser with leather interior? Just in case they do, I mention that it was a free gift. Will they think our kids look pitiful like our fellow missionaries who were given money to please go buy their family new pairs of shoes? That story horrified me to the point that I go out of my way to avoid such a disgrace. Our first stop in Texas is a store where we can buy clean new clothes and shoes for each of the children. We actually put all this on a credit card just to avoid looking the role of the "poor missionaries." Isn't that pathetic?

Oh, and then let me tell you about our return trip to Mexico. Back among missionaries I used to be defensive about our kids looking too nice. True missionaries make do with other people's cast-offs. I used to feel like a misfit with store-bought, credit-card purchased clothing. What's totally crazy is that ultimately no one really cares about any of this. No one is thinking anything, so why should I care what they think?

Ah, pride. Such a deceptive folly. It'll get you one way or another as long as pleasing people is your motivation. Trust me, I speak from experience.