FOMO is the abbreviation for "fear of missing out," and it describes an anxiety that we hold that we may be missing out on an exciting event that others are a part of. FOMO is frequently sparked by something we see on social media. After scrolling through our feed, we see friends gathering, vacationing, and succeeding in ways that provoke a sense of jealous unrest in us. We begin to covet a life that is not ours, and discontent breeds depression.
At the heart of this very real phenomenon is a lack of understanding of what God designed this life to be for and the hope we have to come. In Christ, we have a new mission for living that goes beyond finding personal pleasures. 2 Corinthians 2:15 says, And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again.”
Simply put, when we join God’s family, we are not living for our own pleasure and survival; our mission and purpose are to glorify our Creator. But we forget this often and so quickly get sucked up into the many pleasures that the moment offers or deprives us of. When our focus is on self and not on our identity that is bestowed upon us by Christ, discouragement can quickly overwhelm us.
As believers, contentment and peace in this life is a recognition that there is more to life than what this Earth offers. Our reality as believers is that the best is yet to come. Yet, it’s hard to take this long view, and the temptation is to let comparison steal our joy.
FOMO Stems from Our Fear of Death
On a deeper level, our obsession with what we can experience in this life stems from our very raw and human fear of death. When we see this life as our singular chance to exist, the urgency of each moment can be overwhelming.
“Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might break the power of him who holds the power of death—that is, the devil— and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death. For surely it is not angels he helps, but Abraham’s descendants. For this reason, he had to be made like them, fully human in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, and that he might make atonement for the sins of the people. Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.” - Heb 2:14-18
The devil enslaves us with this relentless fear that death is where our stories end. The best trick our culture offers us is a welcome distraction from our mortality. Our culture serves us up an endless buffet of entertainment opportunities.
Social Media diverts our attention from our God given purpose and design us by leading us to believe that their life is the one that we need. Those events are the ones that will offer us the joy we crave. Those friends are better than the ones we’ve been given. There is an endless parade of lies that can consume us when our souls are nourished by fleeting joys rather than lasting truth.
When we believe our value, our joy, our peace, and our future are wrapped up in what we can partake in here and now, it’s easy to become fearful of missing out. God’s truth is a richer, more expansive, and much more hopeful one. It is the evil one that consumes us with anxiety.
How the Cross Relieves Our Fear of Death
With God, our stories have space to evolve, and every part of who we are is redeemed through Christ’s shed blood. This life is merely the start of his work in us, as his children, we have eternity to know Him and to make Him known. We have the endless days that are yet to come in Heaven to unravel his mysteries and to exist in his perfect presence. As we let this gracious truth permeate our souls, we can let go of our fears.
As a young Mom, the fear of death truly tormented my soul. Maybe you’ve been there? My FOMO was not about what I was missing on social media, but it was about what I might miss out on if death came too soon for me or my family. God gave me this supersized love for my child that I didn’t know how to trust him with because the truth of Heaven had not yet ruled my soul.
I questioned, wrestled, and struggled with God for a long season. Asking God, how can I live and love him when death is always lurking in the shadows? Death is a certainty, one I did not know how to accept. I’d lie my head down on my pillow only to quickly be consumed with panic as the enemy filled my mind with one thought: I will die, or my child could die. How could I trust God to take us when I can’t see for certain what life is past the grave? I never want to leave the ones I know and love now. The thought of one of us being pulled away was unbearable.
My fear of death, of missing out on more time with those I love now, without full trust in God’s Word, is an entirely rational one. I really don’t know how anyone who doesn’t know Jesus doesn’t spend every moment panicking and obsessing over death. The finality of leaving this body and entering the unknown is terrifying.
God’s grace is sufficient to meet our needs and to answer our souls’ most challenging questions. At some point during my searching and suffering under this weighty fear, God whispered an ancient truth into my heart: I beat death when I gave my Son on the cross for you.
I became a Christian at a young age, but I hadn’t needed this truth in the kind of way I needed it as a mother. Suddenly, the cross became everything. Fundamental to my peace. It was the ultimate love act for God; he saw how unbearable death is for his children, so he turned this final ending into a doorway for those who were bold enough to believe. Now we can say things like Paul so radically declared, “to live is Christ and to die is gain” (Philippians 1:21). Only through Jesus can we be so boldly hopeful about the future!
Now, when that familiar fear creeps in, when I get overwhelmed about making the most of every moment because there just isn’t enough time here, when I get overly concerned about being in the right places with the right people, I remember I have the luxury of taking the long view because I am a child of God. I can rest in the story God is writing with my life now, knowing he will bring the good work he is doing in me to completion (Philippians 1:6). When I’m tempted to compare, I am reminded that this life is no longer for myself but for him who died and was raised again.
Photo Credit: ©Unsplash/Marjan Grabowski
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