I loved my college graduation.
I can remember the guest speaker.
I remember what my diploma felt like in my hands.
I even remember the hokey two-tone silver tie I wore.
(And I don’t think I’ve ever worn it since.)
To me, graduation marked the beginning of self-discovery.
Now I’m 34.
I didn’t understand “the twenties decade” until I was well past it.
I still don’t fully understand what God was trying to teach me then.
Here are 10 things I wish I had learned in my 20’s:
1. Pacing
Leaders in their early twenties tend to be revolutionaries. The “ready-fire-aim” spirit might be linked to a delayed effect of the Lucky Charms we consumed as pre-adolescents. Perhaps it’s owing to the recent introduction of morning coffee to our daily routine. Whatever the reason, leaders in their twenties want to take the world by storm. We want to change things. We realize that life is short, the world is hurting, and we want to make a big difference.
Our hearts are in the right place. Most of the time. The trouble is that eventually we’ll get tired. That early burst of momentum will wane. We’ll slow down. And our souls will be left with a curious residue that feels something like “Am I even called to ministry? I’m not as excited as I used to be…”
The age-old fable of the tortoise and the hare comes to mind: “Slow and steady wins the race.” Tempering the revolutionary spirit is not the goal. Direction is. Consider Paul’s letters to Timothy: He never quenched young Timothy’s passion. Like a wise father, Paul just directed it toward meaningful ends. Don’t lose your passion. Channel it by learning how to pace.
2. What I’m NOT good at
Our early twenties are a season to explore what we’re good at. We stumble on gifts that we didn’t know we had, develop interests that feed our creativity, and cultivate skills that (hopefully) lead to a satisfying career. These realizations are important because they play a refining role in our development. If it’s healthy, self-awareness can be a great blessing.
But recognizing what you’re NOT good at is equally important. What’s OFF the table? What’s something you’re just NOT suited to do? More importantly – WHY? Is this something that God hasn’t called you to or is it a skill that He’s calling you to develop?
3. The difference between opinion and counsel
The twenties are a decade of breaking free: We leave home. We become financially independent. We finish school. We start our careers. We might even begin families. We’re learning to listen to our own internal compass for direction, wisdom, and focus. We’ve grown tired of others’ opinions.
But there’s a huge difference between other’s opinions and their council. Opinions are merely someone’s preferences externalized. The world is full of those. Often worthless. Council, however, is thoughtful care that is given for our benefit – solicited or not. Council is what we need to hear – not just what we want to hear. Accepting council takes humility, trust, and wisdom. Virtues we could all do well to cultivate, regardless of our age.
4. The value of availability
Our twenties are a decade where God blesses by surprise. For the better part of my twenties, God seemed to take a “sanctify-him-by-sovereign-seeming-rabbit-trails” approach. I had a plan. It didn’t turn out as I expected. But it worked. In fact, it was perfect. In the end.
You might be asked to serve in an area where you have absolutely no interest (every church is looking for pre-school volunteers). And you might find yourself loving it. Serve there. Be available. Look for needs. There’s phenomenal freedom in checking your resume at the door. Remember that the church is not a fulcrum to leverage your vision, but a people to serve.
5. How to ask good questions
If you’re a twenty-something serving in church, chances are you’re surrounded by good people. Older people. Wiser people. Those people around you have learned a thing or two. Confession: I honestly didn’t believe that. That sounds pretty prideful I know, but this is something of a confession: I thought they had just settled. They had just given up. I thought the adults around me were okay being comfortable and I was going to be different. Better. More of a change-maker.
What I wish I would have done was find a few wiser souls, buy them a cup of coffee, ask good questions, and then just listen. Ask them to tell their stories. Ask questions that give them the opportunity to shape you. Ask questions about things you’re genuinely curious about. Oh. And I wish I would have just listened.
6. The real value of vision
Having vision takes wisdom.
Executing vision takes courage.
Sustaining vision takes humility.
I wish I would’ve known that there is a wrong kind of courage: The kind that foolishly values individual over team. This is “bull-in-the-china-shop” courage: charging in with passion where delicacy and care are most needed. This is “loose cannon” courage: punching holes in areas of church life that might sink the ship. This kind of courage erodes trust, breaks relationships, and sabotages any future ministry goals. Our twenties are a decade of learning the right kind of courage: the kind that builds up, asks, leads through serving, and checks our own plans at the door.
Incidentally, leaders of all ages can fall victim to over-valuing individual vision. Let your twenties be a decade to learn how to add value to what others are already doing.
7. Expect critics
I wish I would have known that there are some people who just wouldn’t like me. That sounds paltry, but I think facing that fear is a hard pill for most of us to swallow. They criticized what I did, how I did it, and (at times) even why I did it. Somehow (and without the consent of this relentless people-pleaser) battle lines were drawn. I couldn’t figure out why. And it really bugged me.
Here’s the thing: Their opinion probably had nothing to do with me. I spent energy worrying, scratching my head, and trying desperately to rebuild the relational bridge. That energy may have been ill-spent. Sadly, church – like any other group of people – is full of critics. Church is a building full of sinners, led by sinners. Criticism will come. Expect it. Don’t run from it. Listen to it, but don’t give it power to sway you from what God wants from you.
8. How to cultivate habits
Biologists say that our twenties are a decade of forming habits. Studies suggest that we begin to form lasting life-style choices concurrently with the onset of other areas of independence. Put simply: Habits formed in our twenties will stick.
I didn’t learn the power of habit when I was most suited for it. As a result, I’m still trying to cultivate the disciplines that I feel are important to the Christian life: prayer, Bible, meditation, journaling, fasting, and the list goes on. What’s worse is that I feel like the hill is getting even steeper: Kids, full-time job(s), financial responsibilities, life planning, parenting… The thirties bring a whole new set of challenges that disciplines are designed to prepare us for. Without those disciplines in place, the thirties can shape up to be a very challenging decade.
9. The importance of long-term relationships
High school. College. Grad School. All places where relationships have the potential to refine, shape, and drive us toward greater ends. To my own detriment, there were great relationships forged in those years that (now 15 years hence) I’ve let slip off my grid.
The value of long-term relationships is tied to the power of your story. People who have seen you grow, mature, fail, rebuild, and move on throughout seasons of your life can add a unique perspective to what God is doing in you. Give time to these relationships. Give budget to them. The perspective they bring will come in handy later.
10. How to hunker down
Faithfulness is often misunderstood: Faithfulness isn’t the same as being stubborn. Faithfulness isn’t being doggedly committed even when you could move on. It isn’t a joyless march through a season of “paying your dues.”
Faithfulness is tied to a larger story: The story of you and God. You can serve anywhere in any capacity when you realize that God has placed you there. I think that’s the idea behind David’s words: “I’d rather be a doorkeeper in the house of God…” A modern paraphrase of that sentiment might be: “I’d rather serve as a midnight custodian in a church if that’s where God wants me.” Moses and David were shepherds. Jesus, who spent a season as a carpenter, had something to say about those who were faithful with little…
To recent grads: I wish you best of success.
The season you’re about to step into is filled with wonder, growth, and joy.
Change the world and be changed.
(Disclaimer: This post painting with an admittedly broad brush. These ideas may not be true of you. Consider these as thoughts from a slightly older brother looking over his shoulder a bit.)
