Years ago, I sat in a dark hut in rural Mexico while rain tapped steadily on the roof. A Bible school student named Priscilla was telling us her story in a low voice. When she was six years old, she accidentally killed one of her father's chickens, and he threw her out of the house. She never went back, and she grew up without a home or a family to cover her.

When she finished, one of the older guys who were with me looked at her with tears in his eyes and said, "Priscilla, I'll be your father. You're my daughter now." Then he hugged her like it was already true. The room went completely still, and it felt like heaven had come near.

I told that story earlier this year, and I keep coming back to it. It's the clearest picture I have of how a life actually gets formed: someone steps close, gives you a name, and stays.

They're Already in the Room

Last week I wrote that Gen Z is more likely than any generation to believe revival is coming, and that many of them expect it to come through their own anxiety and loss. I asked the question, "when they turn toward God, will they find anyone standing there?" In a recent piece for Religion News Service, Russ Ewell wrote that in all our excitement over the crowds and the headlines, we're overlooking the question of what happens next.

The numbers say they really are coming. Lifeway Research found that Gen Z churchgoers attend an average of five times a month, twice as often as boomers. More of them study the Bible every day than any older generation. And 39 percent have been on a mission trip to another country, which is higher than any other generation. I've spent my life sending young people out on mission, so that number made me smile.

The same study found something else, though. For many of them, Sunday faith doesn't reach very far into Tuesday. Lifeway's Scott McConnell described their faith as having "less surrender." Ewell points out that when Gen Z churchgoers have to choose between their way and God's way, over half say they usually choose their own.

Surrender Is the Gift

I don't read that as an indictment. I read it as an invitation, and maybe a mirror. I've been following Jesus for most of my life, and surrender is still the thing I fight hardest. Nobody learns it in a seminar. You learn it by watching someone you trust lay their life down and come out the other side more alive.

Think about where this generation has had to look for that example. Ewell notes that the institutions that used to guide young people have worn down so much that many of them are sorting out life's biggest questions with very few trusted guides. If every authority you've ever leaned on gave way under you, you'd hold the steering wheel tightly too. Holding on that hard isn't rebellion; it's self-protection.

But Jesus offers a strange trade. "Whoever loses their life for my sake will find it." Abandoning yourself to God doesn't add one more burden to a generation that's already carrying plenty. It's the medicine. I've watched thousands of young people find out that the moment they finally let go is the moment they can finally breathe.

What the Teammate Knew

Priscilla didn't need a better sermon that night. She needed a father. Ewell says much the same thing: real formation happens inside real relationships, which is why his church pairs young people with older mentors the way Moses walked with Joshua. Ewell's line that stuck with me was that "attendance is easier to measure than transformation." Lifeway's Chad Higgins told older churchgoers to treat this gap as an opportunity. I agree with him, and I think that opportunity belongs to the rest of us.

So here's what I'd ask of parents, grandparents, and anyone who has walked with God for a while. Don't wait for the church to build a program. Find one young person who keeps showing up and invite them to your table. You aren't there to correct them. You're there so they can watch your surrender up close: the decision you prayed through for months, the money you gave away when it scared you, or the time you obeyed and it cost you something real.

Then tell them about the times you chose your own way, and what that cost you too. That's the story they rarely get to hear. And as I wrote in The Church Gen Z Actually Wants, they can tell immediately whether you're performing or telling the truth.

The crowds will come and go, the way they always have. What I learned in that hut is that heaven came near when one man said you're mine now and meant it. Maybe there's a young person near you who has started showing up. Will you be the one who stays?