The Spiritual Discipline of Disappointing People

I used to believe holiness meant always saying yes.

Yes, I can help.

Yes, that’s fine.

Yes, I don’t mind at all.

I practiced self-erasure so well that people called it Christlike. (Because who am I if I'm not useful?)

People applauded my disappearing act, as if vanishing was a virtue.

No one ever told me that sometimes the most obedient thing a person of faith can do is simply say no.

But here’s what I’ve learned the hard way: When “love” looks like exhausting myself to earn approval, it’s not love -- it's fear dressed up as righteousness.

For some of us — especially women — the message started early:

Be sweet. Be agreeable. Be small. Never make anyone uncomfortable. Never take up more space than you’re given. Never, ever be a problem.

In church this gets baptized into something even sneakier:

“Self-sacrifice."

“Servant heart.”

“Deny yourself.”

We twist Jesus’s invitation into a command to disappear. We witness burnout but baptize it holiness. We mistake being liked for being faithful.

In my need to do and say yes to everything that was asked of me, I wasn’t actually trying to follow Jesus—I was trying to manage everyone’s emotions so they’d stay happy with me.

And that isn’t discipleship. That’s desperately auditioning for love.

Jesus Disappointed People All. The. Time.

We act like Jesus spent his days pleasing crowds.

That’s not what Scripture shows.

He walked away while people were still waiting to be healed. He took naps in storms .He refused to play Messiah the way everyone expected. He made religious people furious — on purpose!

His family regularly thought he’d lost his mind. His closest friends begged him to take a different path. The crowds cheered him one week and called for his death the next.

Jesus wasn’t who people wanted Him to be. And that meant disappointing them constantly.

So if the Son of God didn’t meet everyone’s expectations, why do I think I have to?

Saying No Can Be the Holiest Yes

A real yes, one that comes from a whole, healthy heart, requires the freedom to sometimes say no.

Because if every yes is forced, anxious, or expected, then it’s not a gift: it’s just survival-mode. An anxious yes is a dishonest one, which brings us to the topic of boundaries.

Boundaries are not selfish. Boundaries are not unloving. Boundaries are truthful.

And truth is holy.

Saying no to something that drains your joy or peace protects the calling God actually gave you. It honors the image of Christ within you.

So listen to me: you don’t owe anyone the slow degradation of your soul. Seriously.

People Will Be Disappointed — Let Them Be

Here’s the part no one likes: People will misunderstand you. It's going to happen.

Some will label you as rude, unreliable, “not who you used to be.”

You’ll lose the approval you worked so hard to gain.

And it will hurt.

But every time you resist the urge to fix someone else’s reaction, every time you choose honesty over appeasement, you become a little freer.

And hey, friend? If their praise wasn't really saving you, then their disappointment won't kill you.

A New Kind of Discipline

I’m still learning this. Slowly. Badly. Awkwardly.

Saying: “I can’t do that.”

“I need rest.”

“That doesn’t align with what God’s asking of me.”

Then fighting the instinct to over-explain, to apologize, to soften it, to manage everyone's reactions.

This is spiritual formation. It isn’t glamorous or fun.

This is the kind of formation where courage grows one tiny boundary at a time —where obedience looks like trusting God more than your reputation. Holiness is not being everyone’s favorite. Holiness is being faithful to who God has called you to be.

And that will never look like sacrificing yourself on the altar of everyone else’s needs.

Sometimes that will make other people uncomfortable. Sometimes that will disappoint them.

Let them be disappointed.

You Are Called to Be Faithful — Not Liked

You are not the Savior. You are not the solution to everyone else’s needs.

You don’t have to bleed out just because someone asks nicely.

You can say no. You can choose rest. You can tell the truth.

Let people feel what they feel.

You’re finally free to be faithful.