You were told to chase your calling. To take risks. To make a difference. But somewhere between the financial aid office and your first rent payment, that vision got a little blurry. Now there’s interest piling up, credit cards creeping higher and a sinking feeling every time you check your bank app.
You still care about purpose—but lately, survival is taking up all the space.
This is the quiet reality for a lot of young adults right now. We’re a generation raised to believe we could do anything—until the bills showed up. And here’s the hard part no one wants to say out loud: debt doesn’t just impact your wallet. It impacts your faith, your mental health and your ability to dream. It makes purpose feel like a luxury—something you’ll get to when life finally calms down.
Anthony O’Neal, personal finance expert and author of Take Your Seat at the Table, puts it bluntly: “You were not created to just pay bills and die.” Instead, he encourages young adults to stop letting their financial situation dictate their identity or limit their purpose. That shift in mindset is essential. Because debt has a way of shrinking your world. It doesn’t just drain your bank account—it can drain your mental and emotional energy too.
High debt levels have been linked to increased anxiety, a pessimistic outlook and a diminished social life. When you’re emotionally tapped, it’s hard to make long-term decisions or even think creatively about the future. That stress starts to shape your identity. You stop thinking like someone with a purpose and start acting like someone just trying to stay afloat.
And from a faith perspective, it’s not much better. Proverbs 22:7 reminds us that “the borrower is servant to the lender,” and you don’t have to be a theologian to know what that feels like. When monthly payments eat up your margin, it’s harder to say yes to the things you feel called to. That mission trip you wanted to take, the friend who needed help, the creative project that’s been on your heart—debt has a way of making all of it seem out of reach.
So, what now? No one’s saying you can just manifest your way out of financial stress. But there are steps that can make a real difference—and they start with clarity. Creating a plan to pay down debt isn’t just good stewardship. It’s an act of hope. It shifts you from panic mode into progress. Even small steps toward financial control can significantly improve your emotional outlook.
That process doesn’t have to be lonely either. O’Neal stresses the importance of taking back ownership of your choices: “So many times, we allow other people to sit at the head of our tables and tell us what to do with our life and how to do things with our life, and we never take that opportunity.” Taking your seat at the table—financially, vocationally, spiritually—means making decisions that reflect your values, not just your fears.
It also means being intentional about who you allow into your life during seasons of uncertainty. “You have to have a vision,” O’Neal says. “When you have a vision, it’s even easier to invite people to your table.” Whether that’s a mentor, a financial advisor or a few close friends who understand your goals, having the right community around you helps keep purpose front and center—even when money is tight.
You can also start challenging the default settings. Ask whether your spending reflects what you actually care about or just what you’ve been told to want. That one shift alone can free up more space, money and emotional energy than you might expect.
And when things get messy—and they will—don’t assume you’ve failed. O’Neal reminds us, “Failure, messiness—it’s not a negative. Embrace it. Learn from it, enjoy it, laugh—just make sure that you keep moving forward.” Financial stress doesn’t have to sideline your calling. Sometimes, it clarifies it.
Maybe the solution isn’t to feel guilty about your debt—or to obsess over paying off every dime before you allow yourself to dream again. Maybe it’s about learning to live with tension: being responsible without letting responsibility become your entire identity.
The truth is, debt can make you think smaller, choose safer, settle faster. And if you’re not careful, it convinces you that your purpose has to wait until things are more stable. But the world doesn’t need more people waiting until they feel ready. It needs people who are willing to move forward—even if it’s slowly, even if it’s messy.
Financial freedom is a worthy goal. But it’s not the only one. You can still be generous. You can still be creative. You can still live with intention. Debt might shape your decisions—but it doesn’t get to define your direction.
Purpose isn’t something you find once the numbers line up. It’s something you live into, even now. Especially now.
