A Fallen World or Our Perfect Savior: Whose Opinion Do You Really Care About?
We care so much about what others think about us. But to what end?
It’s natural and beneficial to value the opinions of those we respect. Wise counsel from elders, mentors, or peers can guide us toward growth. As Christians, we’re called to live righteously, reflecting a distinct character that others might notice. These things matter, but none of them are what I’m referring to. I’m referring to the dangerous trap of craving human approval — a fear or elevation of man that distorts our identity and derails our purpose. When we chase the world’s applause, we risk becoming shadows of who God created us to be. Let’s confront this truth head-on.
Pursuing the fleeting praise of a broken world leads to spiritual and emotional devastation. Human opinions are fickle, tainted by flaws, biases, and fleeting standards. Anchoring our worth to their validation is like building on shifting sand — unstable and doomed to collapse. The world’s approval is a mirage, here today and gone tomorrow, and its disapproval stings just as briefly. Yet, fixating on it demands conformity, costing us truth and burdening us with the crushing lie that we’re never enough. The world’s relentless hunger — for wealth, status, attention — leaves us hollow, chasing an unattainable ideal. In this pursuit, we absorb the world’s brokenness, its cracks and stains seeping into our souls. We become less loving, less grounded, less impactful.
I learned this lesson in my sophomore year of college, dabbling in a secondary education minor at a secular university. One class devoted an entire section to the history of “LGBTQ+” in education. Outwardly, I was the model student: attentive, composed. Inwardly, I was fuming. “This is what I’m paying for?” I thought. “To have left-wing ideology forced on me?” My frustration simmered until God used a single lesson to shift my perspective.
The professor had highlighted how suicide, depression, anxiety, and various forms of abuse were most prominent in the LGBT grouping of people — apparently the highest rates are found in lesbian circles, although I did not fact-check. I’m fairly certain the professor was sharing this information with an aim to garner pity, a “they’re not accepted in society, so we need to do better” sort of mantra. Then it hit me: Of course they’re suffering. In addition to living in direct rebellion against God, they face a harsh reality: Without the world’s approval, what do they have? I’ll never forget thinking, “They need the world to accept them, because if the world doesn’t, who will?” For anyone, craving for human validation leaves us empty, defined by a world that will always find something wrong with us.
This realization unveiled a deeper truth: As Christians, we need only one approval — that of our Heavenly Father. Proverbs 29:25 states, “The fear of man lays a snare, but whoever trusts in the Lord is safe.” For those without Christ, chasing worldly validation can only breed despair. If the world doesn’t affirm you, it feels like the world is against you. And when it is, it’s as though the only choice is to turn inward, leaning on your own flawed understanding — something Scripture explicitly cautions against (Proverbs 3:5). This spiral leads to hopelessness, as an image bearer wrestles with his or her inadequacy apart from God’s truth.
But even believers aren’t immune. The lure of fitting in can pull us from our calling. Seeking human approval above God’s tempts us to compromise — softening our convictions, hiding our faith, or chasing trends to blend in. This path trades the freedom of Christ for spiritual drift, leaving us vulnerable to the same despair that grips those bound to the world. The more we fixate on this fallen world, the more we mirror its chaos — its selfishness, its brokenness, its stains. Scripture says we “see through a mirror dimly,” but staring into the world’s warped reflection, rather than Christ’s perfect one, distorts us. We become less aligned with God’s design, less equipped to shine His light.
Even mundane worries — like what we eat or wear — reveal this struggle. Jesus said in Matthew 6:25, “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?” If Jesus warns against fretting over food or clothes, doesn’t it follow that we shouldn’t obsess over what others think of our choices? A simple concern — “Do I look okay in this sweater?” — can spiral into a consuming distraction. These small anxieties expose how easily we’re swayed by the world’s fleeting standards, pulling us from God’s eternal perspective.
This is not how we’re meant to live. We’re called to fix our eyes on Christ. Paul urges in Philippians 4:8, “whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” By anchoring our hearts to these virtues, we shield ourselves from the world’s pull. This demands intentionality — a resolute choice to prioritize Christ’s voice over the noise of human opinion.
Scripture repeatedly calls us to keep our gaze on Christ because every glance away makes us vulnerable to the world’s influence. James 3:2 reminds us, “we all stumble in many ways” since stumbling is part of a fallen world. Yet, while we remain surrounded by daily temptations, we must discipline ourselves to resist the tug of earthly approval by choosing Christ first. In this pursuit, we become our truest selves — not by the world’s measure, but by God’s. We grow in love and holiness, radiating our Savior’s glory in a sin-sick world.
Anchoring our identity in Christ brings unshakable freedom and purpose. When we fix our eyes on our Perfect Savior, we find a standard that never shifts and a love that never fails. Unlike the world’s fleeting praise, God’s affirmation is eternal, rooted in His unchanging nature. Through Him, we discover who we were created to be — fully known, fully loved, fully secure. And isn’t that beautiful? The world doesn’t know us at all, yet it constantly tries to define us by our flaws. God, who knows everything about us, chooses to define us through His Son, clothing us in Christ’s righteousness.
Scripture calls us to seek first the Kingdom of God (Matthew 6:33), trusting His approval is enough. Prioritizing Christ frees us from the exhausting cycle of people-pleasing. Focusing on Christ allows us to be most concerned with what really matters: pursuing righteousness and sharing the Gospel. C.S. Lewis once wrote, “When the whole world is running towards a cliff, he who is running in the opposite direction appears to have lost his mind.” Don’t you see? Chasing the world’s approval tempts us to join its doomed race in fear of looking out of place. But fixing our eyes on Christ emboldens us to swim against the current, confident in the One who holds all things together and leads us on the narrow path. Fixing our eyes on Christ helps us see the finish line in glory, and in turn, not care so much about the opinions of those who claim we’re running in vain.
So, the question isn’t whether we’ll care about opinions — we’re human, and we will. The question is: whose opinion will define us? A fallen world’s fleeting praise or our perfect Savior’s eternal love? One leads to ruin; the other, to life abundant. Choose wisely.
Sarah Holliday is a reporter at The Washington Stand.


