The moment my 10-year-old son Jack grasped the first hold on the rock climbing wall at the regional championship last year, I knew something was wrong. His normally fluid movements were clumsy and hesitant. When he slipped on his first attempt, and then again on his second, I prayed for his heart: Lord, please don’t let this crush his spirit. Please work through this disappointment for his good and your glory.
When Jack learned he didn’t qualify for the next round, tears welled in his eyes. Hours lengthened into days of discussion, often with hugs as we worked through the experience out loud over open Bibles. Finally, one morning, he slid into a chair across from me at the kitchen table, his head tilted to one side thoughtfully. “I realized something, Mom,” he said. “I think God was humbling me through this. I think my ranking held a place in my heart that belonged to him.”
Pressure to Achieve
Jack struggled with an ideology deeply rooted in our culture. College commencement speeches echo it. Doctors, lawyers, and PhD candidates sink into depression over it. It’s the message widely whispered on social media, in schools, and even in casual conversation—that our accomplishments define our worth.
Although this philosophy isn’t new, thanks to information technology kids suffer mounting pressure to base their identity on their successes. “Students today are saturated with messages about performance in their classrooms, with their peers, teachers, colleges, social media, and the larger culture,” comments Jennifer Breheny Wallace, the author of Never Enough: When Achievement Culture Becomes Toxic—and What We Can Do About It. “They are hearing messages day in and day out that they have to strive; they have to do better; and that they’re only as good as their next accomplishment.”
Thanks to information technology, kids suffer mounting pressure to base their identity on their successes.
For children seeking to understand their place in life, such messaging is harmful. According to a 2018 Robert Wood Johnson report on adolescent wellness, “A family and/or school environment characterized by extreme pressure to succeed or to outdo everyone else . . . can affect youth in significantly deleterious ways, including causing high stress and anxiety or alcohol and drug use and dependence.” Breheny Wallace agrees: “We have a devastating epidemic of loneliness, anxiety, depression, and suicide; we are seeing a generation that is being crushed.”
Solace of the Gospel
As Christians, we safeguard a starkly different message. While the world claims we earn our value by working harder, acting smarter, and being better, the Bible reveals we need a Savior precisely because we can’t redeem ourselves. The world would tell us our significance is only as long as our CV, but Scripture teaches that our dignity is ingrained when God fashions us in his image (Gen. 1:26; Ps. 139:13–14). And while the world pushes us to achieve more by our own hands, we magnify Christ’s power most in our weakness (2 Cor. 12:9).
How do we disciple our kids in these countercultural biblical truths? How do we reinforce our kids’ worth in Christ when the world daily tempts them to seek validation through their achievements? The following four points can help as you guide the children in your life to the One worthy of all boasting (10:17).
1. Love them unconditionally—as God does through Christ.
I now have a routine before my kids climb their first route at competitions. As they reach into a bag at their hip to dust their hands with chalk, I lean over and whisper, “No matter what happens, we love you. And best of all, God loves you too. Enjoy it up there.”
At its root, a desire for approval reflects a longing to be loved. When we reassure our kids that our love for them doesn’t waver with their behavior or performance, we lift away a burden from their vulnerable hearts. Even more importantly, we offer a tiny glimpse of God’s steadfast love for them in Christ.
God doesn’t love our kids for their impressive grade point averages or hours of community service. Rather, he loves them because he is loving and abounds in grace. The cross reveals the height and breadth and depth of God’s love with breathtaking clarity: “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom. 5:8). Best of all, in Christ, nothing—not even our failures and mistakes—can tear us away from that love (8:38–39).
Point kids to that life-giving truth. Daily lavish them with unconditional love as a reflection of the One whose steadfast love for them endures forever (Ps. 100:5).
2. Aim for stewardship, not worldly success.
Rather than vehicles for worldly gain, the talents kids cultivate are gifts from God to steward for his glory (Rom. 12:4–8). We are not our own (1 Cor. 6:19–20); from the first moments in the garden, God charged us with the care of his creation (Gen. 2:15). All we possess rightfully belongs to him, “for we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them” (Eph. 2:10).
When we teach kids to steward their gifts for the Lord, the approval of men fades into the background. Suddenly, sincere efforts on the smallest tasks adopt heavenly significance as our children seek to do all to the glory of God (1 Cor. 10:31; Col. 3:17).
3. Teach them their identity is in Christ, not in their accomplishments.
Especially as they tiptoe toward adolescence, kids can struggle to grasp their identity. The expression “What do you want to be when you grow up?” slips too easily from the lips of well-meaning adults, as if a career choice is the sole determinant of who we are.
The Bible teaches a more profound and poignant reality. Our kids’ worth springs not from their talents and career aspirations but from God’s image stamped on them from birth (Gen. 1:26). In Christ, their foremost identity has nothing to do with their test scores or batting average, and everything to do with their adoption as God’s own children: “See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are” (1 John 3:1). Before you give your kids the title of student, athlete, or artist, first teach them who they really are: God’s beloved, “called . . . out of darkness into his marvelous light” (1 Pet. 2:9).
4. Show them that a relationship with God is sweeter than worldly praise.
Compliments can feel intoxicating—literally. Studies show praise activates the same reward centers in the brain that light up with exercise, chocolate, or opiate use. Just as with these other dopamine surges, however, the effect is transient and fleeting, leaving us yearning for more.
According to the Bible, this is no surprise. We fade like grass (Isa. 40:8; 51:12); the work of our hands will wither away (Eccl. 1:11). Only in God, whose word endures forever, do we find meaning. From question 1 of the Westminster Shorter Catechism, the chief end of man isn’t to garner worldly accolades but “to glorify God, and to enjoy him forever.”
When we teach kids to steward their gifts for the Lord, the approval of men fades into the background.
Chasing after the praise of men is foolishness at best and a path to idolatry at worst (John 5:44). “For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?” Jesus warned in Matthew 16:26. And in Galatians 1:10, Paul cautions, “For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? . . . If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ.”
Teach kids to delight in God rather than in worldly approval that will pass away. Guide them with the Spirit’s help to love God with their heart, soul, mind, and strength (Matt. 22:37–38). Encourage them to “work heartily, for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward” (Col. 3:23–24).
When your kids grasp the magnitude and sweetness of that reward, worldly approval will lose its allure. Thanks be to God, I saw that work of the Spirit in Jack a year later when he competed in the championship again. This time, he placed fourth. When a coach mentioned he would’ve placed even higher if he’d reached one more hold, Jack shrugged. “Maybe. But then I would have bumped my friend out of third place, and I’m just so happy that he earned a medal. There are more important things than my rank.”