Not nice, but good.

"Be nice" they say. "Don't talk back. Say please. Don't roll your eyes." Since I learned to brush my own hair it's been drilled into me that I must be polite. Ladylike. Sweet. Not mean. So nice-ness becomes the reflex response. Hurt is crudely covered by a masked smile. "Yes" is abused and my plate is overfull. Graceful femininity is admirable. Courtesy and care worth striving for. But when did nice become the highest regarded character quality? I want nice to retire. I want to be good. I want to hang up the synthetic garb of sweetness and clothe myself with strength and dignity; be the woman who "laughs at the days to come". (Prov. 31) I want to run from shallow, half-invested relationships and fight for fierce loyalty; be the woman who vows before God to stay by the side of her embittered mother-in-law. (Ruth 1) I want to shatter the facade that my heart is impenetrable and embrace complete and utter honesty; be the woman who weeps and begs for her soul's desire of motherhood. "I am a woman troubled in spirit....I have been pouring out my soul before The Lord." (1 Samuel 1) I want to flee the temptation of passivity and bravely act against injustice; be the woman who defies the law and boldly approaches a King to save those who God loves. (Esther 7) May my character be shaped and my persona be characterized by the heritage and faith of these noteworthy women. I am saying "no" to sugary sweet. To shallow pleasantness. To best efforts at feminine perfection. I am saying "yes" to uncommon strength. To unconventional faith and beauty. To goodness that knows when to laugh, when to fight, when to weep, when to be brave. I want nice to retire. I want to be good.