When I look at these slides, I pause. Not just to take in the information, but to feel what it reveals about the world I live in and the ways it has shaped me. Each line feels incredibly relatable, capturing exactly what this generation is all about: the freedom to be yourself, define your own path, and find your own happiness. And truly, I’ve felt that same pull, the desire to live by my own truth and make my own way.
There was a time I believed freedom meant having no boundaries and I thought independence meant defining my own path without restraint, and for a while, that idea felt right, even comforting.
However, I keep noticing how attractive this way of thinking is. It promises freedom, fulfillment, and peace through independence. It puts personal autonomy above everything else. But now I’m starting to see something deeper. Underneath that promise, there can be an emptiness that self-definition alone can’t fill.
I know who I am well not perfectly, but I have some self-awareness about how I think and move through life. Still, these slides made me realize how much this mindset has shaped me, even as someone who loves Jesus. The truth is, I can talk about faith and still take in the spirit of the times without noticing.
And maybe that’s why this feels so personal to me. At first, it sounded freeing, and part of me believed it. But over time, I realized that not every voice leads to wisdom, and not every kind of independence brings peace. And somewhere in that realization, I began to think of my children, and the kind of life I would lead them toward. Not just what sounds freeing, but what leads to what is good.
Scripture reminds me of a truth that humbles me and gives me strength at once:
“For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23, ESV).
My heart, like everyone’s, holds both beauty and brokenness. On my own, I don’t naturally move toward peace, but toward self-reliance. Which I have gradually realized how easily it can replace trust.
There was also a time when I stopped looking for advice. It wasn’t because I thought I knew better, but because I was tired of words that felt empty. So many voices said, “Live your life. You owe no one an explanation.” It sounded freeing, but it didn’t have real substance.
Now, when I look back, I see that time differently. What I thought was just pulling away was actually something deeper. God was quietly calming the noise around me. He was teaching me to be still, to discern, and to tell the difference between words that sound good and truth that comes from love.
Trevin Wax once wrote that the world tells us to look inward, while the gospel calls us to look upward.
Younger me might not have fully understood that, I might even have avoided it. But now I’m beginning to. I spent so much time searching within myself that I almost missed the peace that comes from resting in the One who never changes. How silly of me.
He also described this kind of self-focus as “an ice prison of our own making.” That image stayed with me. Because I can see how self-protection can slowly become self-reliance — how building walls to guard yourself can also keep you from surrender. And in time, I realized that what I needed wasn’t more control, but more trust. Not more self-definition, but more surrender.
