Addicted To Pleasing
by Doug Fields
Doug Fields is a 1984 graduate of Vanguard University, Costa
Mesa,
CA. He is minister to youth at Saddleback Church in Mission Viejo,
California, and the author of 17 books. Doug also trains youth workers
as a member of the Youth Specialties National Resource Seminar team.
I
started in youth ministry in 1979 as a junior high volunteer. Although
I had no idea what I was doing, God used my energy to care for
students. Within my first year, I became the main leader (by default)
and was immediately introduced into the world of people-pleasing.
I changed churches in 1981 and interned with my youth ministry
mentor. I actually got paid for what I loved doing! This new financial
equation elevated my pursuit to please. It was more than pleasing
students and parents now—I lived to please my boss.
My mentor handed me the reins to the ministry in 1985. This moved
me from minor-league pleasing to the majors. My desire to please was
mixed with my drive to prove I could "be the man." This resulted in
workaholism. I was out of the house almost every night of the week.
While no one questioned my work ethic, I began to question everything.
In the midst of all that was happening in my life, I
couldn’t shake the emptiness of all I was doing.
My people-pleasing was working. I was liked by everyone except me.
Everything looked good on the outside—my people-pleasing costume
was fitting well—and I could talk the game as it related to my inner
life. I’d become the poster child for Proverbs 26:23—Pretty words
may hide a wicked heart, just as a pretty glaze covers a common clay
pot (The
Living Bible). I was moving away from dependence on God, and my heart
was hardening. I was too arrogant to believe I was in trouble and too
insecure to ask for help. My desire for doing ministry had long moved
from pleasing God to pleasing people.
In March of 1986, God used an unpleasable man and an angry mom to
get my attention. On a Monday morning following one of the greatest
weekend camps I’d ever experienced, I went to the church office to
share the exciting news. As I approached the office, my insecurity and
pride mixed to create a fantasy in which I envisioned the staff
awaiting my arrival and lining the entrance for a
congratulations-and-chorus-of-"How Great Thou Art" ceremony.
But my fantasy bubble popped when the church administrator asked,
"Did you realize our megaphone was busted this weekend and the church
vans weren’t returned to their proper parking spots?" This obviously
wasn’t the arrival I expected. I didn’t know what to say. I hung my
head and walked to my office.
When I got there I was greeted by a message from a student’s
mother. I eagerly called her, assuming she wanted to thank me for her
son’s life-changing weekend. Instead she said, "Doug, I’ve got some
problems with your leadership." She explained that the only story she
heard from her son was how the boys were laying around in their
underwear one night, lighting freshly passed gas with matches and
measuring the flames (a.k.a., "Blue flaming"). She continued to berate
me on how irresponsible and dangerous that was since the boys could
have possibly exploded. I guess she assumed the high jinks were part of
our planned events—as opposed to a random act of teenage silliness.
Either way, I became the object of her anger.
There I sat, only minutes in the office and the only news had been
from people who were displeased with me. I left the office as soon as I
could. While I drove home, I thought about all the time, energy, and
emotion I had put into the weekend. I replayed my incredible
conversations, the tough leadership decisions I’d made, and the faces
of the students who had found the Lord. I concluded that I didn’t
deserve this type of treatment for all the work I’d done. I finally
pulled the car over because I couldn’t contain my emotions. I began to
weep, not the watery-eyed cry—the body-convulsing kind.
It was at this point, sitting in my car on the side of the road,
that I felt the supernatural presence of God. I wish I could say there
was an audible instruction—there wasn’t. But I felt God impress truth
upon my heart like never before. I sensed God saying, "Doug, you’ll
never be able to do enough to please everyone. Focus on me. Rest in me.
Abide in me. And let me take care of people pleasing."
God used that day to point me in a new direction. He got my
attention, and I’ve never been the same. I wish I could say I left my
people pleasing-costume on the side of the road, but I didn’t. It’s a
costume I still own. Although I don’t wear it as much, and it doesn’t
fit me nearly as well anymore, my people-pleasing costume’s still
within arm’s reach of everything I do. I feel the itch of that old
outfit even as I compose the end of this column.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. (See what I mean?)
