Grace for the Good Girl: Desperate to Do the Right Thing
“I didn’t know any real, relevant answers to questions people were asking. To me, being a Christian was hard work. I secretly didn’t wish it on anyone. At least those unbelievers could have fun in their ignorance. All I had was rules and guilt. Lots of guilt. I felt shame for who I was. I had to be perfect, but I wasn’t. And that wasn’t okay.”
Ariel was lying on the bathroom floor, wrapped from head to toe in toilet paper.
Astonished, I said the first thing that came to mind:
“What are you doing?”
In a nonchalant voice that belied the tears streaming down her cheeks, Ariel replied,
“I’m wrapping myself in toilet paper.”
Okay, I deserved that. Ask Ariel an obvious question, you’ll get an obvious response.
“So I see. But why?”
Her sardonic answer hit me like a slap in the face.
“Because I feel like a piece of shit.”
Part of me wanted to laugh, the scene was so ludicrous. She feels like…so she…how perfect! And part of me wanted to weep, her pain was so tangible.
Ariel and I were roommates in the eating disorder unit. She was simultaneously detoxing from a cocaine addiction and recovering from severe anorexia.
Ariel was everything I was not: gorgeous, glamorous, confident, popular. Always at the center of any crowd, her infectious laugh carried for miles. Whenever something made her excited, she’d yell, “Yessss! I like it!” at the top of her lungs.
Although two years her elder, I paled in her shadow. Plain, dowdy, insecure, reserved, I never knew what to say. Oh, how I envied Ariel’s natural flamboyance!
One night, Ariel came to me in a panic.
“Cheri, they’re talking about moving me in with Amber. You can’t let them. I have to stay with you!”
Flattered, I asked, “Why?”
“You’re a goody-goody. If I room with Amber, I’ll start partying again. If I stay with you, I won’t be tempted.”
Ariel might as well have slapped me. How I despised the phrase “goody-goody.” I didn’t have the nerve to escape the label. And now, I’d gained new one: non-tempting.
I sat down on the toilet lid, my mind racing for the right thing to do: call a nurse? get one of the other girls? find her doctor?
Yes, anyone would be better than me. Someone else would know how to help Ariel. I stood to leave.
“Don’t leave me alone. I’m scared, Cheri.”
You and me both.
We sat in silence, but the accusations in my mind were deafening.
You call yourself a Christian, but when it comes to the test, you don’t know the right answer? You are such a fake! You have nothing to offer her. Some friend you are! If you were a real friend, a real Christian, a truly good person, you would know the right thing to do right now!
“Ariel, would you like me to pray with you?” I asked desperate to do something, anything, to shut down my thoughts.
She nodded.
I don’t remember a single word of my prayer.
All I remember about kneeling beside Ariel on that bathroom floor is how desperately I envied her honesty and wished I could use a few rolls of toilet paper on myself.
The next day, Ariel went AWOL. I never saw or heard from her again.
As I read the section of Grace for a Good Girl quoted above, I remembered Ariel. I hadn’t had “any real, relevant answers” for her. My prayer didn’t change her life. This is not a conversion success story.
So I expected this blog post to explore my shame of being such a fake Christian I as a teenager, stuck in the mire of an eating disorder, unable to share my faith at the critical moment when I could have made an eternal difference in the life of a lost soul.
But the shame is not that I was a fake Christian.
The shame is not that I was unable to share my faith.
The shame is that for almost 30 years I’ve believed I did nothing of value for Ariel that day.
But I did.
I offered her the one thing I could:
Safety.
Calling me a “goody-goody” wasn’t an insult.
It meant that she felt safe with me.
For all these years, I’ve felt so guilty for not doing the right thing for Ariel that I’ve missed the fact that just being with her was the right thing.
I didn’t have to know the right thing to do the right way at the right time.
I just needed to be me.
With her.
Hop over from Sister to Sister. An eye-opening post.
I can remember a time when I should have known how to share my faith. That person died months later, possibly without coming to know the Lord. I can relate to your shame. 🙁
My 12 year old daughter read the email before I did and sent it to me to make sure I read it. She said. “it is really something to think about”.
Amazing post. It really stirred something inside me. I have been struggling because I feel I have the goody-goody image and was envious of the ones who lived life outside the lines. But now I see that its ok. I’m ok. There is nothing wrong with playing it safe. I can offer as much to life as any one else. Thank you for sharing a part of your life story with the rest of us.
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You mentioned in your post that you’ve come to terms with the good-girl image and how that is not as bad as you thought it was (actually it is kind of great). I’ve come to a similar sort of realization and I don’t know if it is getting old or getting wise but it sure is welcome to be able to be a goody goody two shoes and feel good about it.
Enjoying this series as I have always considered my self “the good girl”.
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