When I was a junior in high school, I didn’t want to die. But I remember reaching a point where I didn’t want to keep living the way I was either.

I was lonely, sad, and carrying things I did not know how to handle. I grew up knowing Jesus and had a loving Christian mom who raised me in church, but I also grew up without a father and carried wounds from that brokenness that I did not understand. By my senior year of high school, I wanted to escape everything I thought was causing my pain and loneliness. So, I ran from it all.

I started looking for something that would make me feel better. I wanted the emptiness I was carrying to feel full and my life to feel more in my control.

Over the next several years, I tried filling that void with relationships, partying, alcohol, and drugs. I just knew I didn’t want to feel the way I felt anymore. I would lie awake at night and pray for God to take the pain in my heart away.

Years later, when I look at what young people carry, I recognize some of that same heaviness. The CDC’s 2023 Youth Risk Behavior Survey found that 40% of high school students experienced persistent sadness or hopelessness, and one in five seriously considered attempting suicide.

Loneliness is part of this story, too. The Cigna Group’s 2025 Loneliness in America report found that 67% of Gen Z classified as lonely, the highest rate of any generation surveyed.

Behind those numbers are young people trying to look normal when everything inside feels heavy. They are asking questions about who they are, why they are here, and whether their lives have meaning.

I believe those are not only mental health questions. They are also questions about meaning, identity, purpose, truth, and hope. This generation is being flooded with constant messages, especially online and in classrooms, about who they should be and where they should find their identity.

My team and I were doing man-on-the-street interviews asking Gen Zers if they had clarity regarding their personal identity. One young woman told us that for seven years she believed she was transgender. She talked about getting deeply absorbed on the internet at a young age and trying different things as she worked to figure out who she was.

Then we asked where people their age go to find their identity. “Usually online,” they answered.

That conversation has stayed with me because these are not abstract cultural debates. These are real young people trying to figure out who they are.

We encourage children from a young age to define themselves, and when confusion about identity enters the picture, our culture increasingly treats altering the body as one possible answer.

As a Christian, I believe we should ask: What if our identity is not something we have to create for ourselves, but something grounded in the God who created us?

That does not mean responding in fear when a young person is confused about identity. It means loving them enough to sit with hard questions while still being willing to speak the truth of God’s word.

During Suicide Prevention Month, we talk about recognizing warning signs, checking on people we love, and making sure someone in crisis receives immediate support. We should take that seriously, and no one should treat depression or suicidal thoughts as evidence of weak faith.

In 2 Corinthians 1:8, Paul writes that he and his companions were under pressure “far beyond our ability to endure,” so much so that they “despaired of life itself.” Scripture does not minimize suffering or pretend it isn’t real. It shows us that even people of deep faith can walk through dark seasons.

Christians also have something important to contribute after the immediate crisis passes. When we walk through difficult circumstances, we as believers can remain hopeful because we know God’s word is true and our identity is rooted in him.

My life changed when I realized I couldn’t be the one deciding what was true based on how I felt or what was happening around me. I needed something outside of myself that didn’t change. I needed the unchanging truth of Jesus.

In John 14:6, Jesus says, “I am the way and the truth and the life.” There is a difference between knowing what Christianity teaches and discovering that it is strong enough to hold the weight of your actual life. I began to understand that truth was not something I had to create for myself and that my identity did not have to depend on who wanted me or approved of me.

Christian hope is also not meant to be lived alone. Digital content can reach someone at the right moment. But content cannot notice when someone has stopped showing up. An algorithm cannot hear the change in someone’s voice when they say, “I’m fine,” and care enough to ask again. People can.

Young people need pastors, youth leaders, friends, and family who actually know them. They need people who will listen, pray with them, open Scripture with them, and stay close enough to recognize when something is changing. For some, that support begins at home. For others, family may not be available or healthy. The church should be one of the places where they can go for help and be known.

When I look at Gen Z, I do not see a hopeless generation. I see a searching one. We see this when we talk with young people on streets, on campuses, and online. They are asking questions about identity, purpose, and truth. Sometimes we can see the sadness in their faces when we ask where they find their identity. That is worth paying attention to.

We also see how open many of them are to talking about Jesus. They do not need us to have every perfect answer. They need people who are willing to show up, listen, point them to what is true, and remind them that there is a Savior who can forgive their sin and give them a new life.

If Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life, then we have a hope worth sharing and a reason to stay close to young people when everything else feels uncertain.

Naomi Anderson is the co-founder of Verity Collective, a movement reaching this generation with the unchanging truth of Jesus.