My Chameleon Heart

It’s my sinful nature to want to be accepted by everyone. I also see this trait in my daughter, the stereotypical eldest child trait: a people pleaser. Did I make her this way? That’s a blog post for another day. Seeing this trait mirrored in a tiny human I love with my whole heart is sobering.

She’s the kind of child who is like a chameleon, wanting to please others, eager to fit in with her surroundings, and naturally conflict-avoidant. Depending on who she’s with, her personality can change entirely.

This can be a beautiful trait when channelled correctly. It makes it easier to form relationships and connect with others. But it can also be destructive, because at what expense are you willing to forgo who you are in Christ to avoid conflict?  A chameleon Christian is lukewarm; too timid to stand out, yet too comfortable to make a difference. They adapt to their surroundings instead of letting the Spirit direct their presence. They adjust their temperature to match the room's, rather than allowing God to transform the atmosphere around them and allowing the spirit to guide their interactions.

Picture this: I’m getting my haircut and having a full-blown conversation with a hairdresser I’ve never met before. Then the conversation takes a turn, and she asks me what I’m up to this weekend. I knew exactly what I was doing, but I hesitated for a split second and responded with a safe answer: “Likely just a low-key Sunday for us! How about you?”

As the words left my mouth, I felt a deep conviction. I had intentionally avoided talking about church or anything Jesus-related. This could’ve been a great opportunity to tell her I was going to church. We’d just spent the last twenty minutes chatting about how she’s from the same town I’m from, and she even mentioned that she doesn’t usually have much going on Sundays, but I froze. I wanted to maintain my likability.

At the beginning of the haircut, I caught a vibe that she likely didn’t have anything to do with faith, and I got nervous. I changed what I wanted to say so I would be liked.

Me simply saying that I was going to church on Sunday probably wouldn’t have changed her heart on the spot, but it revealed a heart issue within myself. It’s easy to share a faith-based post on social media or have John 3:16 in your bio, but what about the day-to-day interactions? The real, face-to-face moments? That’s where I struggled; the quiet opportunities where obedience costs comfort.

Since I’ve surrendered and given up my life to Christ, my life can’t look like the flow of culture anymore. I can’t be hiding, blending in, and looking like everyone else. If the people I interact with are oblivious to the fact that I live my life entirely for Christ, I am doing something wrong. God calls us to live a life apart from the world. We are called to live in such a way that makes people go “wow, I’ve never experienced love like that before”.

We don’t need to stamp “Jesus” on our foreheads but rather in the way that we interact, speak and care for others. Being a Christian also puts us to a higher standard than everyone else. If we continue in our old sinful ways, we aren’t accurately representing our new birth into a living hope. As a new Christian, this stressed me out a little bit. How am I supposed to go on and sin no more, while the sting of my flesh continued to remind me just how broken and sinful I am to my core? The truth is that even after we’ve accepted Jesus as our living hope, we can’t rid ourselves of sin entirely, but rather we undergo the process of sanctification where Jesus chisels and chips away at us, refining us so that our end result shows up as gold instead of ashes.

My chameleon heart is still learning. There are still moments when I feel that tug to blend in, to soften the truth so I’ll be liked. But when that happens, I’m reminded of who I belong to. My identity isn’t found in others’ approval; it’s anchored in Christ, who redeemed me and continues to refine me.

Each day, the Spirit continues His work of sanctifying this heart of mine; chiselling away the fear of man and shaping me to reflect His image more clearly. I don’t get it right every time, but I rest in knowing that He who began a good work in me will see it through.

So, instead of camouflaging myself to fit in, I want my colours to reflect Christ: steady, bold, and full of grace.

“For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? … If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ.” – Galatians 1:10