There’s a pattern that echoes through every generation — a cycle we either can’t break or simply refuse to. It’s a quiet epidemic with serious consequences, affecting not just our peace of mind but the health of our souls. And at the root of it? Honesty — or rather, our lack of it, especially with ourselves.

As human beings, we struggle to face the truth. Pride gets in the way. We deflect, deny, and disguise our reality. Compliment someone’s life, and they’ll start listing their hardships. But suggest their life looks hard, and they’ll quickly assure you they’re doing fine. We’re masters at hiding — even from ourselves.

We’re afraid to admit weakness, shame, or failure. Afraid to confess that we don’t have the answers, that we’re lost, even when deep down, we know it’s true. We fear acknowledging that we’ve built, achieved, and pursued so much, yet our hearts remain unsettled. We hesitate to admit that the loves we’ve clung to aren’t enough, that the success we’ve tasted still leaves us empty, and that the years we’ve lived haven’t brought the meaning or peace we hoped for — certainly not enough to satisfy our souls or calm our fears when life nears its end.

So we hide. We slip quietly into therapy. We reach for distractions to numb the ache. We chase anything that might soothe the emptiness inside. And when life confronts us with deeper questions — about purpose, death, or God — we retreat. We fall back on the same tired answers that never truly satisfied.

It’s like being in high school again, pretending we’ve got it all together, while secretly breaking down in the silence of our own misery. We craft a version of ourselves that isn’t true — a carefully maintained illusion. Like clowns, we paint on smiles to hide the pain behind the mask.

Jesus said, “The truth will set you free.” And it’s been said, “Admitting the truth is half the answer.” Both are true. Until we’re honest — with ourselves and each other — we stay trapped behind the mask. We keep living as the person pretending behind the clown.

Admitting the truth is half the battle. But Jesus is the other half. He’s the One who wins the war. As long as we refuse to face the truth, we deny our need for Him — and miss the freedom He alone can give.

The Church and the Mask

I understand why the world avoids truth — but what about us, as Christians? What are we still afraid of?

Sadly, we often fall into the same pattern. We wear masks. We pretend. We want to look like everything is perfect now that we follow Jesus — yet inside, we still wrestle with real struggles. But why the fear? Are we afraid of looking weak? Of being misunderstood, mocked, or rejected?

Don’t we follow a Savior who accepts us completely? One who gives us identity, love, and worth? If Jesus truly is our refuge and strength, why do we still live like prisoners of public opinion?

God is glorified not through our appearance of perfection, but through our honesty — our confession of weakness and daily dependence on Him. Even admitting that we struggle to follow Jesus is an act of faith, because it draws us closer to the only One who can sustain us. When we’re honest with others, we’re forced to be honest with ourselves — and that’s where real transformation begins. That’s what it means to take up our cross.

But too often, we hide. We fake it. And in doing so, we give the world a distorted image of Christ. Our children, families, and friends — they’re not rejecting Jesus; they’re rejecting the version of Him we present when we live behind masks. They see through the façade — and what they see isn’t truth.

Living in Truth

God demands truth. He is truth. And if we are to reflect Him, we must be people of truth — no matter the cost.

There’s more honor in the one who stumbles forward with honesty than in the one who wears the mask of pursuit but never truly moves. Struggling toward something real is far more powerful than pretending to chase it.

What we chase, others notice — and often follow. If we chase a lie, they’ll chase a lie too. Maybe not the same one, but still a lie. But if we chase Jesus with sincerity — without compromise — maybe others will be inspired to do the same.

And if we’re honest about our struggles in that pursuit, maybe others will find the courage to be honest too. Instead of hiding behind appearances, we can find unity in vulnerability — a shared desire to help one another press on, even when the journey is hard. That’s what true discipleship looks like.

Here’s My Truth

I’ve failed and struggled in my faith. I’ve wandered from Christ and gone through seasons where I didn’t grow at all. That reality weighs heavily on me — because I imagine you might wonder: If Christ is really all He says He is, then why would I ever walk away?

All I can say is this: following Jesus isn’t easy. Not for the unbeliever, and not even for the believer. It’s hard to break free from the lies, from Satan’s grip, from the pull of our flesh and the world I lived in for so long. That life was all I knew.

But now I’m learning to live for something better.

And despite all my failures — despite the struggle — here’s what I know for sure:

I will keep chasing Jesus for the rest of my life.

Because in all my searching, I’ve found nothing in this world worth letting go of Him. Not even in death.