Embracing Authenticity in a World of Facades
In a world where we're often encouraged to put our best face forward, it's easy to fall into the trap of "faking it." We smile on the outside while battling internal struggles, presenting a calm exterior while our hearts are in turmoil. This disconnect between our outward appearance and inner reality is more common than we might think, especially among younger generations.
Recent psychological data suggests that Gen Z, those born between 1997 and 2012, experience the highest rates of low-grade, constant depression, known as dysthymia (it used to be the Millenials, FYI). It's not the deep clinical depression that grabs headlines but rather a persistent heaviness of the soul. Many can't even pinpoint why they feel this way – nothing is terribly wrong, but nothing feels quite right either.
Despite having access to more opportunities and resources than ever, this generation often feels a profound sense of dissatisfaction, a longing for something more. There's a palpable lack of hope and faith, a struggle to find meaning and make a significant difference in the world. It's as if we're merely existing, not truly living.
But here's the truth we need to grasp: We were made for more than this type of existence.
We were created for more than just pretending everything is okay when it's not.
This struggle is nothing new. The psalmist captured it beautifully thousands of years ago:
"Why are you down in the dumps, dear soul? Why are you crying the blues? Fix my eyes on God—soon I'll be praising again. He puts a smile on my face. He's my God." (Psalm 42:5, MSG)
The reasons for our inner turmoil often fall into three categories:
1. Something happened: We carry scars from past hurts, losses, or mistakes.
2. Something is happening: We're currently facing challenges or disappointments.
3. Something will happen: We're anxious about the future and what it might bring.
Every generation grapples with these issues. We all have scars that remind us of past pain. Many of us deal with burdens that weigh heavily on our hearts. And who among us hasn't felt the grip of anxiety about what lies ahead?
Even Jesus experienced anxiety in the Garden of Gethsemane, knowing the suffering that awaited Him. The Bible tells us He was in such anguish that His sweat was like drops of blood.
The danger is that we can become so accustomed to our pain, so used to the heaviness in our souls, that we accept it as normal. We resign ourselves to the idea that this is just how life is and put on a brave face for the world. We get very good at faking it.
But we were made for more than this facade.
There's a profound opportunity hidden in our struggles, one we'll miss if we keep pretending everything is fine. It's the opportunity for transformation. Our pain, our dysthymia, our heaviness – these are not things to be avoided or discarded. They're necessary parts of who we are, and more importantly, they're the very things God wants to use to reveal His power.
As the Apostle Paul wrote:
"We've been surrounded and battered by troubles, but we're not demoralized; we're not sure what to do, but we know that God knows what to do; we've been spiritually terrorized, but God hasn't left our side; we've been thrown down, but we haven't broken." (2 Corinthians 4:8-9, MSG)
This is how God uses what has happened to bring beauty. It doesn't mean the pain disappears, but it's given purpose. God wants to reveal His power through real people, through the cracks in our lives and the pieces of our broken stories.
If we spend all our time curating our lives to impress others, we live for the fake. We were made for more than that. The truth is that people don't want to be impressed; they want to connect with authenticity.
Consider the Japanese art of Kintsugi. This 400-year-old practice involves repairing broken pottery with gold, embracing flaws and imperfections to create something more beautiful and resilient. It's a powerful metaphor for our healing journey. Sometimes, when repairing what's broken, we create something more unique and valuable than before.
As Richard Rohr wisely said, "If we don't transform our pain, we will most assuredly transmit it."
So, how do we transform our pain instead of faking it?
1. Recognize what has happened, what is happening, or what will happen. Don't deny your struggles; own them. Validate your experiences and emotions. When someone asks how you are, resist the urge to automatically say, "I'm fine" when you're not. I encourage you to answer that question in this way. “I’m trusting God.”
2. Call out to God. We rarely call out to God for the things we fake. Be honest with Him about your struggles and pain. As the psalmist cried, "You're my last chance, my only hope for life!" (Psalm 142:5, MSG)
3. Remember God's faithfulness to trust His power. This truth is more enduring than whatever has happened, is happening, or will happen. As we read in Lamentations:
"But there's one other thing I remember, and remembering, I keep a grip on hope: God's loyal love couldn't have run out, his merciful love couldn't have dried up. They're created new every morning. How great your faithfulness!" (Lamentations 3:21-23, MSG)
God uses our real lives – with all their mess and pain – to reveal His real power. He doesn't need our polished facades; He wants our authentic selves.
As we embrace this truth, may we find the courage to let go of pretense and live authentically. May we trust that our broken pieces, when surrendered to God, can become the very means by which His light shines most brightly. We were made for more – more authenticity, more purpose, and more of God's transforming power in our lives.