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Who Am I Writing For?

  • May 10
  • 6 min read

Fear, Obedience, and the Pull of People-Pleasing

I went to church with my husband last week expecting an ordinary evening. I thought we’d listen to the message, head home, and wind down for the night. Instead, I left with something I couldn’t stop thinking about.

The message was about the seed sown among thorns—how it grows, but gets choked out by distractions. Some of those thorns are obvious. Fear, anxiety, anger, exhaustion. Others are not so obvious, because they look like good things. Responsibilities. Commitments. Even serving.

In Mark 4:18–19, Jesus describes it this way:

“Still others, like seed sown among thorns, hear the word; but the worries of this life, the deceitfulness of wealth and the desires for other things come in and choke the word, making it unfruitful.”

As I sat there, I started thinking about what those “thorns” look like in my own life and how easily I can get pulled away from what I’m actually called to do. Sometimes it’s busyness. Sometimes it’s feeling tired. Sometimes it’s just the weight of everything else that feels urgent. Sometimes it’s fear, anxiety, or discouragement that keeps me distracted from what God is asking me to focus on.

But one of the biggest distractions for me is something that looks almost harmless on the surface: people-pleasing.

I’ve spent a lot of my life struggling to tell the difference between being led by God and being driven by fear, guilt, or the need for approval.

It can even show up in something as simple as writing this blog.

I can sit down with the intention of writing what I feel led to write, and before long I find myself wondering who will read it, how many people will subscribe, whether it will land the way I hope it does. And right there, without even realizing it, my focus shifts. What started as obedience slowly becomes performance.

Sitting in church, I had a very clear thought: my job is to write. God’s job is to do something with it.

That was enough to bring me back.

And it led me to something I’ve struggled with for a long time: pleasing God vs pleasing people.

In Galatians 1:10, Paul puts it plainly:

“Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God? … If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ.”

That’s a strong statement. But the older I get, the more I realize how easy it is to live in that tension without even noticing it.

A thistle weed along a fence line

Pleasing God vs Pleasing People

I’ve realized that not all people-pleasing comes from the same place.

Some of it is rooted in fear. That kind develops over time. It learns to stay quiet, to avoid conflict, to read the room and adjust accordingly. It keeps you safe, or at least it feels like it does. You learn to edit yourself, to hold things in, to avoid saying the wrong thing because you’ve learned there can be a cost to being misunderstood.

But there’s another kind that can look much more admirable on the surface. It shows up as being helpful, dependable, willing. It says yes to things that seem good and even spiritual. It steps in where there’s a need. It serves. But over time, it can quietly override discernment. Instead of prayerfully asking whether something is truly what God is calling us to do, we start asking ourselves whether it would be selfish, wrong, or disappointing to say no.

Both of these can pull us away from what God is actually asking of us, but they don’t feel the same. Fear-based people-pleasing tends to make us shrink back, withdraw, and protect ourselves. Obligation-driven people-pleasing feels heavier. It pushes us to overextend ourselves, ignore our own discernment, and carry responsibilities God may not have asked us to carry.

But following the Holy Spirit feels different from either one.

For me, the difference often shows up in a very physical way.

There have been moments where I knew God was prompting me to say something difficult to someone. Everything in me resisted it. My heart would start pounding, and I would feel that familiar urge to stay quiet, to let it go, to avoid the discomfort altogether. But at the same time, there was something else there. Not just a feeling, but a clear, steady sense that the Holy Spirit was leading me forward. I knew I needed to move in that direction, not away from it. It’s not my natural instinct—that’s how I know it’s Him.

When I’ve followed that prompting, something shifts. The words come more clearly than they normally would. I’m not scrambling to get them right or trying to manage the other person’s reaction. It feels grounded, almost as if I’m being carried through it rather than forcing my way through it. And afterward, even if I’m emotionally drained, there is a deep sense of peace. Not relief that it’s over, but peace that comes from knowing I was obedient to what God was asking me to do.

That experience is very different from the fear that comes from people-pleasing.

In those moments, there is anxiety before I even begin. I’m already thinking about how something will be received, how to say it just right, how to avoid any kind of tension. While I’m in it, I’m monitoring myself, adjusting, second-guessing. And afterward, instead of peace, there’s a lingering heaviness. I replay the conversation. I wonder if I said too much or not enough. I feel drained in a way that doesn’t feel right, because I wasn’t being led by God—I was being driven by fear of people.

Over time, I’ve learned that the presence of fear isn’t the best indicator. Fear can show up in both places. What matters is the direction it’s pulling me. When the Holy Spirit is leading, there is a pull forward, even if it’s uncomfortable. When fear is leading, there is a pull to retreat, become guarded, and avoid whatever feels threatening. Learning to recognize that difference has helped me discern what is actually leading me.

There is another kind of people-pleasing that looks very different on the surface because it can involve genuinely good things.

Sometimes the task itself is good, and it may even be something God originally called us to do. The problem comes when guilt, pressure, or poor boundaries slowly turn it into something heavier than it was ever meant to be. What began as joyful service can quietly become overcommitment. Instead of serving out of love and alignment, we start operating out of obligation, exhaustion, and fear of disappointing people.

You shouldn’t follow God out of guilt or pressure. Obedience can absolutely be difficult, but the heart behind it matters. God sees that. He sees the motive, not just the action.

In 1 Thessalonians 2:4, Paul writes:

“We are not trying to please people but God, who tests our hearts.”

He’s not asking for reluctant compliance or for us to wear ourselves out trying to meet everyone’s expectations. He wants us to serve Him, and others, out of love—not out of fear, pressure, or obligation.

In my experience, following God’s prompting usually feels like being drawn toward something, even if it’s difficult. There is often a quiet peace underneath it, and sometimes even a sense of anticipation or hope. It feels aligned, even when it stretches me.

But obligation-driven people-pleasing feels different. Sometimes the serving itself is meaningful and life-giving, but without healthy boundaries it can slowly take over everything else. It can crowd out rest, relationships, time with God, and even the very calling we were originally trying to follow. Over time, that kind of pressure wears you down. It pulls you away from who you are and from what you’re actually meant to do.

And if we’re not careful, we can lose ourselves there.

None of this is something I’ve figured out perfectly. If anything, I’ve learned it slowly, often by getting it wrong first. There have been plenty of times I didn’t listen, times I went my own way, times I chose what felt easier in the moment. It never ended well. Those experiences became a kind of classroom for me, teaching me to ask for guidance, wisdom, discernment, and courage—and then, even more slowly, teaching me to follow it.

And I’ve learned something else too.

I don’t hear God clearly when I’m not spending time with Him.

If I’m not in prayer, not in His Word, not paying attention, everything else gets louder. My own thoughts, other people’s expectations, the noise of the day. But when I’m grounded, when I’m intentional about spending time with Him, it becomes much easier to recognize what is drawing me forward and what is weighing me down.

Learning to discern what is truly from God takes time.

I also know not everyone experiences God’s leading the same way. I can only describe what it has felt like in my own life as I’ve slowly learned to recognize His prompting. The specifics may look different for someone else.

So now, when I feel that tension, the question I try to come back to is simple:

Am I responding out of fear, out of obligation, or out of obedience?

It’s not always easy to answer. But I’m learning that I don’t have to get it perfect. I just have to be willing to listen, and then take the next step in faith.

Because in the end, this isn’t about whether people approve of what I say or do.

It’s about whether I’m being faithful to what I’m called to do.


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Hi, thanks for stopping by!

I’m Heidi — maker, baker, chicken caretaker, and writer.
I share honest reflections on faith, growth, and the unexpected invitations that shape our lives.

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