From Hello Kitty to Stitch

The other day, my daughter and I were talking about her birthday cake.

She said she wanted a Stitch cake.

I reminded her, “I thought you wanted Hello Kitty.”

Without missing a beat, she said,

“Well… I think I want Stitch because my fans will love that.”

I laughed.

“Fans?

Since when do you have fans?”

I questioned if she knew the meaning, and surprisingly, she did.

But long after the laughter faded, the Spirit whispered a deeper question

“Who are your fans?”

And my mind was put to work. Somewhere between childhood innocence and adulthood, we start living like we’re on a stage. We adjust. We filter. We soften convictions. We choose “Stitch” when we really wanted “Hello Kitty.”

Not because God told us to…

But because we think someone is watching.

The apostle Paul asks a piercing question in Epistle to the Galatians 1:10:

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

That verse doesn’t tiptoe.

It confronts.

Because you cannot be driven by applause and led by the Spirit at the same time.

And Jesus said in Gospel of Matthew 6:1:

“Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of others to be seen by them.”

To be seen.

That’s the subtle trap.

It’s not always loud pride.

Sometimes it’s quiet performance.

We don’t just perform on platforms.

We perform in parenting.

In ministry.

In friendships.

On social media.

Even in church.

We craft versions of ourselves that will earn claps instead of correction.

But here’s the freedom:

God is not impressed by performance.

He’s moved by obedience.

First Book of Samuel 16:7 reminds us:

“The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”

Whew.

So maybe the real question isn’t,

“Who are my fans?”

Maybe it’s,

“Who is my audience?”

Because if my audience is people, I will constantly change cakes.

But if my audience is God, I can stand firm—even if nobody claps.

And here’s what I’m learning:

Living for applause is exhausting.

Living for approval is unstable.

But living for God?

That is steady ground.

My daughter may think she has fans.

And maybe she does.

But I pray she grows up knowing this truth early:

You don’t need fans.

You need faithfulness.

And so do I.

— Merry Melodious Melody