Being youth right now is one of the hardest things and most people around us don't fully see it. So many of us don't know our direction, our purpose, our reason for being here. And without that, there's no real fulfillment, no matter what we achieve on paper.
And rather than face that question, most of us silence it. The world gives us a thousand ways to look away scrolling, work, the version of success that keeps us too busy to think. We numb the purpose question with secular distractions. But eventually the question comes back: what is our destination? Is it just marry, have children, get rich, and die? Or is there something beyond all of that? Is there something worth dying for?
The worries we carry
I know the weight of it. How do I get a job? What's the point of education when even the educated are struggling? What kind of work should I even be doing? I won't pretend I don't think about these things. I won't pretend I don't want a good life.
But as a Christian, I've been learning slowly to change my perspective. Paul writes in Philippians about counting his achievements, his credentials, his whole success, as loss for the sake of knowing Christ. And here is the extraordinary part: he was writing that letter from jail. Not from a comfortable room with all his problems solved. From prison. And he writes about joy. About peace. About knowing God. That still stops me.
"What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord."— Philippians 3:8
ነገር ግን ይጠቅመኝ የነበረውን ሁሉ አሁን ለክርስቶስ ስል እንደ ጕድለት ቈጥሬዋለሁ። ከዚህም በላይ ለርሱ ብዬ ሁሉን ነገር የተውሁለትን፣ ወደር የሌለውን ጌታዬን ክርስቶስ ኢየሱስን ከማወቅ ታላቅነት ጋራ ሳነጻጽር፣ ሁሉንም ነገር እንደ ጕድለት እቈጥረዋለሁ፤ ለርሱ ስል ሁሉን ዐጥቻለሁ፤ ክርስቶስን አገኝ ዘንድ ሁሉን እንደ ጕድፍ እቈጥራለሁ፤ - ፊልጵስዩስ 3:7-8
For a long time, I believed happiness was somewhere ahead of me. past the next goal, the next version of my life I hadn't built yet.
Not because life was bad. By most measures, it was going well. I had things I'd worked hard for. People I loved. And yet the happiness I'd promised myself the deep, settled, arrived kind still felt like it was waiting somewhere else.
Somewhere along the way, I absorbed a version of happiness that was really just dressed-up dissatisfaction. The "I'll be happy when..." trap. When I buy a nice car. When I get rich. When things calm down. When I finally figure myself out.
The problem is the goalposts never stop moving. You hit one goal and your mind has already quietly set a new one. The arrival never comes because the destination keeps shifting.
_"Rejoice in the Lord always." _— Philippians 4:4
ሁልጊዜ በጌታ ደስ ይበላችሁ፤ ደግሜ እላለሁ ደስ ይበላችሁ! ፊልጵስዩስ 4:4
That word used to slide right past me. Joy, real joy, isn't a reward waiting at the finish line. It's something you can choose right now, in the middle of the mess.
I don't say any of this to be hypocrite. I say it because realizing it was the most freeing thing that ever happened to me.
King Solomon's testimony
I know how it sounds when someone says money doesn't buy happiness especially coming from someone who hasn't had a lot of it. I've even seen the TikTok: someone says money can't buy happiness, and the reply is, "then I'll rent it." It lands because our whole perspective has been shaped by the assumption that more is more.
But then there is King Solomon. God blessed him so extraordinarily that Scripture says no one before him or after him could compare in wealth, in honor, in everything (1 Kings 3:10-14). He had 700 wives, 300 concubines. He built, planted, created. He denied himself nothing his eyes desired.
Ecclesiastes 1:1-3 The words of the Teacher, son of David, king in Jerusalem: “Meaningless! Meaningless!” says the Teacher. “Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless.” What do people gain from all their labors at which they toil under the sun?
በኢየሩሳሌም የነገሠው፣ የዳዊት ልጅ፣ የሰባኪው ቃል፤“የከንቱ ከንቱ፤” ይላል ሰባኪው፤ “ሁሉም ነገር ከንቱ፣ የከንቱ ከንቱ ነው።” ከፀሓይ በታች ከሚለፋበት ተግባር ሁሉ፣ ሰው ምን ትርፍ ያገኛል? መክብብ 1:1-3
"I denied myself nothing my eyes desired; I refused my heart no pleasure... Yet when I surveyed all that my hands had done and what I had toiled to achieve, everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind."— Ecclesiastes 2:10–11
ዐይኔ የፈለገውን ሁሉ አልከለከልሁትም፤ ለልቤም ምድራዊ ደስታን አልነፈግሁትም፤ ልቤ በሠራሁት ሁሉ ደስ አለው፤ ይህም የድካሜ ሁሉ ዋጋ ነበረ። ሆኖም እጆቼ የሠሩትን ሁሉ፣ ለማግኘትም የደከምሁትን ድካም ሁሉ ሳስብ၊ ሁሉም ከንቱ፣ ነፋስንም እንደ መከተል ነበር፤ ከፀሓይ በታች ምንም ትርፍ አልነበረም። መክብብ 2:10-11
If Solomon at the absolute peak of human wealth and pleasure concluded that it was all meaningless, then what am I expecting to find at a fraction of what he had? I'm nowhere near King Solomon's wealth. So who am I to think the things that couldn't satisfy him will satisfy me?
Don't trust the lie. We waste our lives chasing what the richest man who ever lived already tested and found empty.
The only answer that holds
Everything points to the same place. All the searching, all the questions about purpose and direction and what makes life worth living they all come to an answer, and that answer is Jesus. Who reorients your eyes from flesh things to eternal things. Who is the only one who can make you a gifter of peace and joy while you yourself are in the middle of economic pressure, family pain, or whatever else you're carrying.
"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. Not as the world gives do I give to you."— John 14:27 ሰላምን እተውላችኋለሁ፤ ሰላሜን እሰጣችኋለሁ፤ እኔ የምሰጣችሁ ዓለም እንደሚሰጣችሁ አይደለም። ልባችሁ አይጨነቅ፤ አይፍራም። ዮሐንስ 14:27
What Jesus describes is something else entirely a steadiness that doesn't require your circumstances to cooperate. That's what I'd been missing while I was busy running.
What God taught me about happiness
God taught me to be happy through the Provider himself not through the blessings. I have found joy in what I already have. But more surprisingly, God has shown me happiness by not giving me things I was convinced I needed. Things I was certain would make me happy. He withheld them, and in the withholding, taught me something I couldn't have learned any other way.
What I found
I started noticing contentment. It's not the same thing as happiness. Happiness is loud and temporary feeling.
I also found meaning, which turns out to be a far more reliable companion than happiness. Meaning doesn't depend on how you feel in the moment. It shows up in hard things too.
And I found peace not the world's version, but the kind that doesn't require everything to be sorted first.
I still have hard days. I still want things. I'm still a work in progress which I think is true of everyone being honest. But I've stopped measuring my life against an imaginary future version of it.
If you're living right now with all your goals in front of you placing your happiness on people's opinions, on likes, on money, on the life you're building I'm not here to tell you those things are worthless. I'm here to say try the peace of Christ alongside all of it. Open your heart. Pray. You'll see how God takes over and provides in ways that reorder everything.
The happiness I was chasing was never behind the next thing. It was always here, in the mess and the ordinary and the imperfect middle of a life still being lived.