{"id":23277,"date":"2026-03-11T14:29:14","date_gmt":"2026-03-11T14:29:14","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/gpbookstore.org\/articles\/uncategorized\/she-gave-sarcasm-up-for-lent\/"},"modified":"2026-04-10T06:15:58","modified_gmt":"2026-04-10T06:15:58","slug":"she-gave-sarcasm-up-for-lent","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/gpbookstore.org\/articles\/positive-living\/she-gave-sarcasm-up-for-lent\/","title":{"rendered":"She Gave Up Sarcasm for Lent"},"content":{"rendered":"

Dolphins. that\u2019s how I got into trouble. It was the week before Lent<\/a>. My husband, three teenage daughters and I were eating dinner at the kitchen table when I brought it up. Something I\u2019d seen on Facebook that afternoon. An acquaintance from church had a penchant for posting overly inspirational quotes<\/a> accompanied by photos of rainbows, sunsets, ice cream cone-shaped clouds, you name it.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow she\u2019s moved on to dolphins,\u201d I told my family. \u201cI wonder if killer whales are next.\u201d<\/p>\n

I dropped the word cheesy. Everyone laughed.<\/a> Everyone, that is, except my 17-year-old daughter, Maggie. She just stared at her plate and moved her peas from one side to the other.<\/p>\n

After dinner, I went upstairs to check on her. Maggie was sitting on her bed, earbuds in. I tried to get her to open up about what was bothering her. But she gave me the teenage cold shoulder<\/a>. I thought I was going to get frostbite.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want to talk,\u201d Maggie finally said, pulling out her earbuds. \u201cYou\u2019ll just say I\u2019m being cheesy.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d I said. I was sarcastic<\/a>, sure, but I\u2019d never call my kids cheesy!<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re snarky, Mom. You make fun of everything,\u201d Maggie said. \u201cAnd FYI, I like those dolphin photos!\u201d<\/p>\n

Dolphins?<\/a> This was about dolphins? Seriously?<\/p>\n

All night I tossed and turned, thinking about what Maggie had said. Was she right? Was I too snarky? I wasn\u2019t a mean person. But around people I was comfortable with, I did tend to poke fun at things. It\u2019s just how I\u2019d been raised.<\/p>\n

In my family growing up, humor was everything<\/a>. When I was little, my dad and brother would spend the entire dinner hour outdoing each other\u2019s jokes<\/a>. I had to keep up if I wanted to be included. And I was the kind of person who noticed everything.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s one reason I studied journalism in college. I met Luke there, a nice southern gentleman from Georgia. We fell in love, got married and moved to a little white farmhouse outside of Atlanta. I came from Connecticut, and the South gave me culture shock. Everyone was so polite.<\/a> Meanwhile, I was like a bull in a china shop.<\/p>\n

Even so, I made a good group of friends\u2014I was \u201cthe funny one\u201d of the bunch. Whenever we got together for lunch, I couldn\u2019t help but give a running commentary on everything from the design of the menu to the waiter\u2019s serving style. My humor<\/a> was what made me, well, me, wasn\u2019t it?<\/p>\n

The day after my conversation with Maggie, I called my friend Cristell and told her about it.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs that true?\u201d I asked. \u201cAm I too snarky?\u201d<\/p>\n

Cristell hesitated. \u201cWell, I remember how you used to say everyone is doing the best they can<\/a> with what they have.<\/p>\n

\u201cI must\u2019ve been over-caffeinated that day,\u201d I shot back. Hmm. Maybe I had been a little softer back in the day. My forties had turned me sarcastic. What could I do about it at this point, though? It\u2019s not like there was a 12-step program for smart alecks.<\/p>\n

Ah, but there was Lent! Usually I gave up chocolate or shoe shopping. This year, I decided I\u2019d give up the snark. I\u2019d abstain from wisecracks and sarcasm for 40 days. And I\u2019d give up Facebook too\u2014one more dolphin photo and I wouldn\u2019t make it past the first hour of Lent snark-free.<\/p>\n

READ MORE: What to Give Up for Lent: 15 Meaningful Suggestions<\/a><\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n

I wasn\u2019t sure if the planet would continue to spin minus my running commentary, but I was interested to find out. Most of all, I wanted to know if I could change<\/a>, if I could be the kind of person my daughter could trust not to make fun of her.<\/p>\n

Day one went off without a hitch. I had many a snarky thought, but none were actually verbalized. The next day, though, temptation stared me right in the face<\/a> when I met with my book club. We got together once a month for a nice sit-down lunch. I was on my best behavior.<\/p>\n

Things were running smoothly until someone brought up a trigger topic\u2014a book whose popularity I could never fathom. I squirmed in my chair like an antsy kid.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s going on, Laura?\u201d someone finally said. \u201cYou\u2019re awfully\u2026quiet.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI gave up snark for Lent,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019m biting my tongue, which is just about bleeding right now.\u201d<\/p>\n

They erupted into laughter. \u201cGood luck with that!\u201d they said. All through lunch I just sat there trying to think of something cheesy to say. I felt like Tigger when he lost his bounce. Lord<\/em>, I prayed on the drive home<\/a>, help me find a way to stifle the snark but still be me!<\/em><\/p>\n

Two weeks into Lent, things were no better. I kept noticing things I badly wanted to comment on, even at church. There was the woman filing her long nails during the service. The guy who\u2019d punctuate the pastor\u2019s sermon points with a soul-stirring \u201cAaaaahhh-MEN!\u201d And the two kids driving their little toy trucks up and down the edges of the pew.<\/p>\n

I wasn\u2019t verbalizing the snark, but the running commentary kept on going in my head. Shouldn\u2019t my heart have changed by now?<\/a> Was I a lost cause?<\/p>\n

One afternoon halfway to Easter<\/a>, I sat at home and turned to a book by the writer Bren\u00e9 Brown for inspiration. The chapter I\u2019d cracked open was about Bren\u00e9\u2019s struggle with perfectionism\u2014she held herself and, as a result, others to impossible standards. Hence her occasional snarkiness.<\/p>\n

I was the same way! I judged others<\/a> over the things I silently judged myself about. Like my behavior at church or my posts to Facebook. Once upon a time, I\u2019d believed everyone was doing the best they could with what they\u2019d been given. But somewhere along the way, I\u2019d stopped believing that for myself.<\/p>\n

I was self-conscious about my own perceived faults and I covered it up with sharp humor. No wonder I was so hard on other people. I closed my eyes and prayed, this time not to stop the snark, but to be kinder to myself<\/a> and, by extension, to others.<\/p>\n

A week before Easter<\/a>, I stopped at the supermarket. My cart was overflowing, so I skipped the self-checkout line. The clerk on duty was a sour woman I\u2019d seen before. She rarely said anything apart from the bare minimum required to facilitate the transaction. At least the self-checkout computer always greeted me with \u201cWelcome, Valued Guest!\u201d This clerk could take a hint<\/em>, I thought as I emptied my cart.<\/p>\n

Yet the more I looked at the clerk\u2014really looked at her\u2014the more I noticed that she wasn\u2019t surly at all. If anything, she seemed sad. I tried to put myself in her shoes.<\/a> What was she going through? I caught her eye and did something I\u2019d never done before. I smiled at her.<\/a> She smiled back. A tired smile that said, \u201cThanks, sugar, for trying.\u201d I had no snarky response, no criticism. I just felt for her.<\/p>\n

I paid for my groceries, thanked the woman and left the store feeling lighter somehow. Humor isn\u2019t a bad thing.<\/a> In fact, it\u2019s a great thing. But not when you hide behind it, afraid to really reveal yourself, flaws and all.<\/p>\n

That night, I sat with Maggie in the den. She was telling me about a Christian song she adored. Her guard was down. I wasn\u2019t a big fan of contemporary Christian music<\/a>\u2014I usually made fun of it. But Maggie was so passionate. I asked her to play the song for me.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou won\u2019t like it,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\u201cTry me,\u201d I said. I felt as if I could like just about anything\u2014even cutesy dolphins.<\/p>\n

For more inspiring stories, subscribe to <\/em>Guideposts<\/strong><\/a> magazine<\/em>.<\/p>\n

READ MORE ABOUT LENT:<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n