Growing Up

Acts 7

I think some of us may have confused growing older with growing up. It is easy to do. We assume age naturally produces maturity. But it’s entirely possible to build a career, earn degrees, raise children, lead ministries, and still let one person’s opinion carry more weight than God’s voice.

You can be a fully functioning adult who files taxes, schedules dentist appointments (without your mom), remembers to thaw the chicken before dinner (occasionally, okay…rarely), and yet one awkward conversation has you replaying it during your shower, on your walk, and as you’re trying to fall asleep.

The truth is, maturity isn’t measured by birthdays, accomplishments, or responsibilities. It’s revealed by what has the power to move us. If one person’s opinion can pull us off course, maybe there’s still some growing to do.

That concept draws me to Stephen in Acts 7. It’s one of those chapters we usually speed-read because it’s long and feels like a history lesson. But tucked inside this long, historical speech is one of the clearest pictures of spiritual maturity in all of Scripture.

Stephen spends the entire chapter recounting Israel’s history, pointing out something they had always struggled to see: God was continually moving, speaking, rescuing, and inviting His people into something new, yet they kept clinging to what was familiar. They resisted Moses. They resisted the prophets. And now they were resisting Christ.

Near the end of his speech, Stephen says,

“You stiff-necked people! Your hearts and ears are still uncircumcised. You are just like your ancestors: You always resist the Holy Spirit!” (Acts 7:51, NIV)

That isn’t exactly the kind of sermon that wins “Most Likely to Be Invited Back.” I can only imagine the looks on the faces of his audience…

Stephen knew how this conversation was going to end.

He didn’t keep talking because he thought everyone would finally clap and say, “You know what? Great point.” He kept talking because he had already decided that faithfulness mattered more than approval.

That’s maturity.

One of the greatest signs of spiritual growth isn’t that everyone likes you. It’s that you’ve stopped needing everyone to.

Some of us are waiting for God to change our circumstances, while God is patiently waiting for us to outgrow something. To outgrow our addiction to validation. To outgrow the fear of disappointing people. To outgrow our obsession with being understood by everyone.

Growth is rarely something that accidentally happens to us. It is something we choose. Every day, we decide whether we’ll keep living from old patterns or allow the Holy Spirit to transform the way we think.

Paul writes,

“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” (Romans 12:2, NIV).

Notice he doesn’t say, “Try harder.” He says, “Be transformed.”

That’s an entirely different process - Transformation isn’t behavior management. It isn’t suppressing your insecurity while secretly refreshing Instagram to see who viewed your story.

It’s allowing God to rebuild the framework of how you see yourself.

I wonder how many of our decisions are still filtered through one exhausting question: “But what will people think?”

We’ll stay in jobs God is asking us to leave because someone might think we’re irresponsible. We’ll avoid conversations God is calling us to have because someone might be disappointed. We’ll delay obedience because we’re waiting for unanimous approval from people who were never assigned to direct our lives in the first place.

Somewhere, without even realizing it, we gave others the voting rights in decisions that belong to God.

Hebrews 11 says something remarkable about Moses:

“By faith Moses, when he had grown up, refused to be known as the son of Pharaoh’s daughter.” (Hebrews 11:24, NIV)

“When he had grown up.”

What an interesting phrase to put there. To me, it says that growing up wasn’t simply about Moses getting older. It was about choosing a different identity.

He willingly walked away from prestige, comfort, and the approval that came with being part of Pharaoh’s household because he believed God’s promises were worth more than temporary acceptance.

He chose to be misunderstood. He chose to disappoint people. He chose the harder road because he trusted God more than public opinion.

I think that’s what growing up spiritually looks like.

Can I lovingly say something?

Some of us are entirely too grown to still be taking our cues from a culture that doesn’t even know Christ.

We’ve allowed trending opinions, comment sections, and social expectations to disciple us more than Scripture. We panic over being called judgmental, old-fashioned, intolerant, or weird, while forgetting that Jesus told us following Him would often place us at odds with the world (John 15:18-19).

We’ve become adults with careers, degrees, mortgages, marriages, and ministries, yet one critical comment can still move us off our purpose.

That’s not because we’re weak. It’s because our growth has often been stunted. For years, many of us have practiced sin suppression instead of heart transformation.

We’ve learned how to look like mature Christians without actually allowing God to reshape the places where fear still lives. We’ve modified behavior while protecting idols. We’ve managed appearances while avoiding surrender.

But the Holy Spirit isn’t interested in making us better performers. He’s making us more like Christ.

Stephen finishes Acts 7 with rocks flying toward him (tough crowd). And what is he looking at?

“Look,” he said, “I see heaven open and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.” (Acts 7:56, NIV)

Everyone else was looking at Stephen. Stephen was looking at Jesus.

Maybe that’s the invitation for us too.

The opinions around him became strangely small because his eyes were fixed somewhere else.

I don’t know whose approval you’ve been chasing lately. Maybe it’s your parents. Your coworkers. Your church. Your friends. Social media. Maybe it’s someone who stopped thinking about you years ago while you’ve continued carrying their opinion like a backpack full of bricks.

At some point, if we’re going to become who God created us to be, we have to outgrow what we’ve always known. We have to stop asking, “Will everyone understand?” and start asking, “Will I be faithful?”

Because the truth is, following Jesus has never guaranteed you’ll be liked. It has always guaranteed you’ll become more like Him.

And honestly? That’s a much better trade.

bytaylormcgee