Affluence, Regret, and Identity Crises

In my early years of ministry (and maybe once this past week), I daydreamed about packing up and driving to the Dallas Cowboys stadium. I would scrub toilets and work my way up to marketing, or content creation—something cool like that. Why didn’t I intern with the football team in college? Is it too late now? Should I have tried to make different friends, joined different groups?

This sort of wistful regret is what we call an identity crisis, albeit a minor one. I’m not headed to Dallas anytime soon. To some extent, people have always been having these crises. An identity crisis is part of what differentiates you from a sea scallop. That sort of inward confusion, pain, and self-doubt is the unique gift of being human. Congratulations. The problem is that these crises have become far more frequent and widespread than they were even a hundred years ago.

No, I don’t have sociological data to back that up. Partly because a hundred years ago, people were more concerned with tuberculosis than studying something called sociology. But life in the olden days wasn’t all bad. There was less pressure to figure out who you should be.

For example, a few hundred years ago, if you grew up as the daughter of a farmer, your life was more or less mapped out from birth. You would marry another farmer’s boy in town and spend your life managing that farm. Education, marriage, and the military offered alternatives, but everyone around you expected you’d do what your parents did. Far less FOMO.

Today, because of affluence, mobility, and the internet, you are bombarded with the message: “Don’t limit yourself! Believe bigger!” This leaves you ambivalent and wistful about any choice you do make, always looking over your shoulder. Did I miss something? Did I leave something on the table? What if I’d gone to law school, like my friend Susan? What if I’d persevered with that long-distance relationship? What if I’d prioritized a different friend group? What if I’d tried the rhubarb-azalea coffee that the barista told me was life-changing? What if? What if? What if!?

Despite our perceptions, Westerners keep getting richer, historically speaking. Gen Z is the most affluent generation in the history of the world. That affluence, combined with the internet, is bringing an acute awareness of the growing number of choices that we have, but are not making. This in turn leads to more frequent identity crises.

The solution lies in grounding your identity in your relationship with Jesus. Relationships weather the storm of circumstances far better than goals, careers, and achievements. And Jesus supernaturally surpasses any other relationship.

Relationship-focused identity is different from other aspirations. It’s not that you won’t still have regrets, (they accumulate over any longterm relationship), it’s just that the present and the future are more important. Your relationship with Jesus isn’t a ship that passed you by a couple decades ago. It’s there for you now, today.

A Jesus-centered identity draws your heart back towards what is real, simple, and obtainable instead of feeling a nebulous ache because you betrayed your best self somewhere back along the way. It’s as if Jesus says, “Forget all that. Stop thinking about the past. Just come home and be with me. Let’s hang out right now.”

Read here why I’m writing a book on this–what is the Bible’s pathway toward self-actualization?