Roses and perfume. Such are gifts traditionally given to newly-turned 20-year-olds in South Korea to celebrate their coming of age; these are also what I received for my own twentieth birthday earlier this year. Even in the middle of their busy schedules, my parents came to celebrate my birthday with me. They handed me a large bouquet of red roses, and my mom gave me a small bottle of perfume, noting that it was the same type that she first used several years ago. Though I am not usually one to get ecstatic about gifts (neither receiving nor giving), I appreciated how the bouquet and bottle symbolized a greater moment: a meaningful transition as I move beyond my teenage years and step into my twenties.
Frankly speaking, my claim for this transition being one of meaningful and exciting change is largely influenced by images portrayed by popular media. As contemporary culture paints it, these particular ten years of young adult life present some of life’s best experiences, formative relationships, and golden opportunities that blend together to create a beautiful picture titled “Youth”. Now, I don’t believe such a definition to be completely baseless. In my twenties, I am likely to be in good physical health with more independent time, which will contribute to such a notion of the “prime” of my life.
This grandiose picture inevitably leads me to form different expectations of what this next decade of my life might look like. As I parse through both my anxieties and dreams about my twenties, there are two foundational reminders I hope to hold onto tightly: for what purpose I was made and to whom my life belongs.
A Timeless Purpose
If I were to name the biggest concern I currently have as I begin my twenties, I would label it, “the worry of distraction”. As I gradually depend less on my parents, step deeper into society, and become more fully capable as an independent adult, I fear the large scale temptation by a number of distractions. The desire to earn a certain amount of money, or work for a certain company, or live in a certain place, or be in a certain relationship, or possess certain things…the list is endless. Though such desires are not inherently bad, I imagine how much more easily I might become distracted by temporary pursuits in the next few years.
The cure to dissolve these distractions and prevent them from swelling into idols is honestly uncomplicated, but it is one I must constantly bring to mind. Whenever I find myself fretting over temporary concerns, I must be reminded of my timeless purpose. Distractions become idols and points of overwhelming anxiety when they are definitions, meaning I define myself (my worth, identity, belonging) by them. The truth that stomps out this harmful deception is the definition given to me by God—who my Heavenly Father says I am. As defined by God in His word, I am a sinner once dead in my tresspasses and now saved by grace through faith in Jesus Christ alone.
By recentering my focus on my identity in Christ, all other false, weak claims to security and belonging fade away. My relationship with the temporary offerings of this world fall infinitely dim in the light of my relationship with God—a precious relationship, in fact, made possible only by God Himself offering up His own Son.
It is my prayer that throughout my twenties, for every time my mind wanders and desires to be filled with distractions, God will be mighty to imprint in my soul a daily reminder of the sweet gospel. I am confident that a daily preaching of the gospel to myself will leave a fragrance more impactful than any other perfume imaginable.
My Life Is Not My Own
The gospel explains very clearly to me that this life is not my own. My life was not simply bought by Christ, but it was redeemed, and “[i]t is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (Galatians 2:20). This is the confession I strive to declare coming into my twenties. I want to be reminded of the great cost—my great sin—that Christ Jesus paid so that I, who was once so blindly lost, would so be brought into the loving and merciful fold of God.
Knowing the gospel naturally causes my heart to rejoice at the fact that indeed the Lord is the owner of my life. In every success, I will thank the Lord for His overflowing grace. In all my weakness, I will thank the Lord for His steadfast strength. I have not a single clue as to what is to unfold in this next decade of my life. As I learn to become an independent person in these next few years, there is no guarantee that aspects of my life, from career and community to family and relationships, will unravel in any way I wish or expect. But there is one thing I can expect: I will grow in trusting God as I continue to learn how He always has my best interest at hand. As the apostle Paul explains, “He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” (Romans 8:32).
God, the author of salvation and author of my life, in His sovereignty, causes “all things [to] work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28). So, with confidence I can look forward to the ways God will use every moment of both sorrowful pain and joyful peace for my good and His glory.
As it is with all other flowers, the roses I received on my birthday soon faded and withered. Unlike these fleeting flowers, however, the promises of God are unchanging and enduring. God does not promise me either fame, comfort, or security in this next decade. God, who gave up His Son out of love, promises me His goodness and His faithfulness that know no ends (Psalm 100:5). Marveling at this truth, I pray for the Spirit to stir my heart to shout, “That is enough for me,” further into my twenties and for eternity.
This is the final series from the 2023-2024 Young Writers Cohort, with the authors writing about a topic they feel strongly about.
Photo Credit: Annie Spratt