Paralyzed by “What Will People Say?”

As if we weren’t under enough stress as it was, nothing about our weekend getaway was going according to plan.  

Truth be told, we didn’t really have much of a plan to begin with.  We were going to spend a Saturday with some friends in another part of the state, and on a whim we decided to make a weekend of it, find a hotel somewhere for Saturday night, and make our way home at our own pace on Sunday.  

The lack of planning ran totally contrary to my Type A personality, but the desire to just get away overpowered my desire for a detailed itinerary, and so we threw some clothes together for the family and headed out.  We enjoyed a day with friends in the country, bid them goodbye, and headed that evening for a nearby college town where we were sure we would have no trouble finding a hotel room.

What were we thinking?

When you have four kids, three of whom are adult-sized, you can’t get just any hotel room.  We are limited on where we can stay even under the best of circumstances, but then we learned the town where we planned to stay for the night was hosting both a national soccer and tennis tournament that weekend.  In the entire town there wasn’t a single room available for a family the size of ours.  

There was a big city another hour away.  We hadn’t intended to go that far that night, but, then again, there would be more to do there the next day if we wanted, so we started calling hotels.

Nothing.  Seriously every hotel on the north side was booked.  

At which point I started crying.  With the back of the car piled with our luggage, the kids expecting a relaxing night in a hotel and some family fun tomorrow, we were going to have to turn around and drive right back home.  

That’s what I get for not planning, I groaned.

Now there was one little community between the college town and the big city.  It was hardly more than a wide spot in the road, but it had two hotels.  I had already given up by that point, but my husband called and, by some miracle, found one room available.  It was out of the way and overpriced, but we took it, drove the distance, and settled in for the night.  

It was one of those “accidents” that you later realize was God-ordered.  Actually, I believe that sort of thing happens far more often than we recognize, where God uses mishap or other random happenstance to place us right where we need to be, right when we need to be there.

Things were heavy on us at the time, you must understand.  We had been handed some difficult, troubling circumstances and we had handled them the best we knew how, though certainly not to the liking of everyone around us.  Now we were faced with decisions that were so weighty I felt like I was smothering under the burden of them.  

As if we hadn’t already dealt with enough criticism. 

And silence.  Because sometimes people’s silence is so loud and blaring it seems no less critical than harsh words.  

It’s not that I’ve never dealt with criticism before, though I will admit I haven’t always dealt with it well.  Often criticism is justified, even highly beneficial, and we can learn from it if we’ll let go of our pride long enough to do so.  It’s far easier, however, (and much more in accord with human nature,) to let criticism fester and bleed and offend rather than accomplish any good in us.

But for all the constructive criticism that comes our way — criticism that can accomplish real good in us if we’ll let it — most of us still face criticism that is hardly constructive, because it is designed to tear us down.  It generally comes from people who have never been in our situation, or who do not have all the pertinent facts, or who seem determined to dislike us no matter what we do. 

But dismissing criticism, even when we know it is unjustified or it comes with cruel intent, is still tough.

There at the hotel the conversation came up again the following morning while the kids were still sleeping.  Decisions needed to be made, but I was desperately trying to avoid the issue.  There were a lot of reasons for that — Fear of the unknown.  Fear of change.  Fear of failure. 

But the biggest fear?  The fear of what people would say.

Because I knew the criticism was coming.  And as much as I wanted to disregard it, I. just. couldn’t.  And rather than face the criticism, I had decided it may be best to do nothing.

I have discovered we are a really weird family in the sense we actually go to church when we travel, even when we know absolutely no one where we will be attending.  I suppose I’ve been surprised to find that most Christians don’t do this.  Either they seem to consider church an interruption in their vacation plans, or they’re so convinced their own denomination or familiar worship style is the only one God-approved they can’t bear to sit under anything else, not even for one service.

I think you miss out on so much when you take either of those attitudes.  But whatever.

We had no idea where we were going to church that morning, but we got the family ready for church just the same.  We were too late for service at a couple of the nearest churches and still too early for others.  And so we started down back roads toward the town we had planned to stay in originally.  With watchful eyes and Google Maps, surely we would find some church along the way. 

And in the middle of the country, in this expanse of wide open farmland, we stumbled upon a bustling little church about to start their third service of the morning.  We slipped in and took our seats. 

The church was full.  They sang some songs we knew, and some we didn’t; a comfortable blend of worship songs and traditional hymns. 

And then the little Baptist pastor took his place with Bible in hand and began to preach.  He took his text from 2 Samuel 16, where King David is fleeing from Absalom.  What a dark time for David, right?  He’s living with the consequences and regret of past mistakes, his own son is trying to overthrow his kingdom, and now that it looks like he’s losing power, some of David’s friends and former aides have turned against him, too.  He’s had to run away from his own home, which he knows hardly makes him look strong and in control.  He’s worried about the kingdom, about his own future, and yet he’s also deeply concerned about his son, Absalom, no matter the pompous jerk he has become.

And as if things aren’t bad enough, here comes this guy, Shimei, throwing dirt and rocks at the fleeing David, saying all kinds of awful things against him.  It’s so bad that David’s hotheaded assistant, Abishai, wants to take the guy’s head off, but David insists that he be left alone.  In fact, he recognizes that some of what Shimei is saying against him is true, and the rest he allows him to speak whether it’s warranted or not.

And the pastor took off on a sermon about fear of criticism as if he had been listening to our private conversation in our hotel room.  And I cried.  The. entire. time.  At one point he even made the statement, “If we are not very careful, we will allow our fear of what people will say to so paralyze us that we then do nothing for God.”

To so paralyze us that we don’t act.  We don’t speak.  We don’t plan.  

The fear of what people will say will so paralyze us that we do absolutely nothing.

God help me, how that gripped my heart!  Because that’s where I was.  As long as we made no decision, there was no additional criticism.  As long as we were quiet.  As long as we took no action.  As long as we remained immobile and completely ineffective.

There’s an old quote of questionable origin that says, “To avoid criticism, say nothing, do nothing, and be nothing,” and it rings with a lot of truth.  We will be criticized most when we put ourselves out there, when we try new things, when we do things differently.  Whether our peer group is society at large or a much narrower community, thinking and acting outside the box is rarely accepted with open arms.  But keep in step, follow the norm, say nothing and do nothing outside what is accepted by the majority, and you’ll be approved and pleasantly ignored.  

And you’ll never make a difference.

Do we stop to consider sometimes how much we are controlled by our fear of what people will say?  How many of our decisions are driven solely by this one consideration?  Not by what good or bad may come of our choice, or what might be accomplished, or what progress might be made.  But only, “What will people say?”  

God help us.  What a miserable way to live!

Now I know there are some who take a dismissal of what people will say to careless heights, almost seeming to delight in upsetting people, even wearing criticism like a badge of honor that somehow validates everything they do and say.  

Don’t go there.  

But don’t idolize acceptance either.  Yes, a good name is better than riches (Proverbs 22:1), but our good name is not a god to be worshipped.  Our legacy is not somehow more important than our obedience.  Don’t fool yourself into believing that everybody in your comfortable little religious circle speaking well of you is evidence you are living a life that is pleasing to God.  Sometimes nothing could be further from the truth.

Doing nothing accomplishes nothing.  God sent me a reminder of that when I needed it most.  From a little Baptist preacher in a little Baptist church in the middle of nowhere in a place we had ended up at entirely by accident. 

Maybe you need that reminder today as well:  

 

If it’s the right thing to do, it doesn’t matter what people will say. 

If it needs to be done, it doesn’t matter what people will say.

 

Few things can paralyze us into inaction like the fear of what people will say.  But I can tell you from experience, letting go of that fear can reap a harvest of benefits.