From the archives:
I see it everywhere.
At the store—young women standing idle in the middle of the aisle, eyes glued to a screen, completely unaware that someone is trying to get by.
In the coffee shop line—their entire posture radiates impatience, like the world is supposed to move at the speed of their craving.
Even in church.
And I don’t say that lightly.
But it’s there too.
Many young women today refuse to respond kindly when spoken to.
They avoid eye contact with anyone older.
Some even look at older women with annoyance, as if your presence in the room is an inconvenience.
I’ve seen it in strangers, in pews, in social settings—and yes, even in young women I love.
Women who are caught up in their own little world, with their reflection in the mirror, their timeline, their preferences, their pain.
It’s not that they’re always cruel—it’s that they’ve been told their world is the only one that matters.
I recently read this quote by martyred conservative voice, Charlie Kirk:
“We have the most narcissistic female generation in history, and abortion is the culmination of that.”
That line punched me.
Because it’s true.
But I think we’re naive if we believe that truth doesn’t reach into our Christian homes and Bible-preaching churches.
It does.
Culture is loud.
And these girls are drowning in it.
Everywhere they turn, the world whispers lies wrapped in self-love slogans.
“You’re enough.”
“You don’t need a man.”
“Marriage is a chain—postpone it as long as possible to find yourself.”
“Motherhood is a trap.”
“Children are interruptions.”
“Your self-worth comes from how you look.”
“Your gym streak.”
“Your contour routine.”
“Your hair appointments.”
“Your follower count.”
“Your lashes.”
“Your body exists for applause, and your brain for ambition.”
“Career over calling.”
“Individuality over obedience.”
They hear it all day, every day.
And most of them don’t even realize how deep it’s gotten into their bones.
Even the movies preach it.
It used to be that a hero was strong because he sacrificed.
Now, the “hero” is a woman who mocks her man, rolls her eyes at masculinity, and charges forward without accountability, honor, or humility.
It’s the same in sitcoms.
Dad’s always the fool.
Mom’s always the genius.
She’s cultured, stylish, strong.
He’s a bumbling idiot.
We laugh, but it leaves a mark.
And over time, that mark becomes a message—men are disposable.
Women are divine.
This ideology breeds selfishness.
The kind that makes you ignore your grandmother’s voice because she doesn’t understand your generation.
The kind that makes you scroll past someone’s grief because you’re too focused on your own image.
The kind that makes a woman believe she has the right to kill her child because it might delay her plans.
In the culture at large, that’s where it ends—abortion, the pinnacle of self-worship.
And no, abortion itself may not be taking place in the pew beside you.
But make no mistake: the seeds of that same selfishness are being sown, even in our churches.
So what do we do?
What’s the answer?
We go back to Titus 2.
We stop chasing the “next big women’s conference” with a speaker who’s been married five minutes and has one toddler in a monogrammed onesie.
That’s not wisdom—it’s marketing.
The church doesn’t need another event.
It needs older women with wrinkled hands and weathered faith teaching younger women how to be godly, not trendy.
How to serve their families without resentment.
How to love their husbands when it’s hard.
How to train their children in the Word.
How to be content, how to pray, how to repent, how to grow.
We’ve lost that.
We’ve traded sacred mentorship for cute reels and thirty-second “godly advice” clips.
And it’s not working.
The girls aren’t better for it.
They’re lost in a sea of filters and feminism.
And some of them are sitting in our churches, silently drowning while we scroll.
If you’re an older woman reading this, I beg you—don’t assume your voice is outdated.
Don’t assume your story isn’t needed.
Don’t assume your presence isn’t powerful.
Pull someone close.
Open your home.
Boil the water for tea.
Make the casserole.
Speak the truth.
Show them the rhythm of a life that revolves around Jesus, not self.
And if you’re a young woman reading this, stop.
Stop chasing the culture.
Stop believing the lie that your fulfillment lies in freedom from the roles God designed for your good.
Repent.
That’s what it comes down to.
Repent of pride.
Repent of selfishness.
Repent of rolling your eyes at the wisdom that could have saved you pain.
Repent of brushing past the quiet woman of God in the pew behind you who would pray for you if you’d just ask.
There is joy in obedience.
There is peace in biblical womanhood.
There is strength in humility.
There is purpose in pouring yourself out for others.
Walk away from the glittering emptiness of self-worship and find life again in the beauty of sacrifice.
We need each other.
Older and younger.
Saints seasoned with grace, and saints stumbling toward it.
But if we don’t come together soon, we’ll keep raising women who know how to take a selfie—but not how to serve.
Women who can quote affirmations—but not Scripture.
Women who can demand respect—but haven’t earned trust.
It’s time for a different kind of revival.
Let it start at your kitchen table.
Let it start with your quiet repentance.
Let it start with a young woman putting down her phone, and an older woman picking up her courage.
Let it start with you.
Let it start with me.
Biblical Womanhood
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