To Hell and Back: A Humble Reflection
When you are tired of being average, you first need to understand what “average” really is.
In Indonesia, when you say you are average, you are often actually above the median, above 50% of the population. My perspective changed when I looked more closely at the P50. You quickly realize that it is far from glamorous and far removed from the bubble many of us live in. That was where my attention went.
I saw a broken system, one in which people often cannot advance because of a lack of resources rather than a lack of merit. Scarcity forces people to focus on survival rather than truly living. It is in this context that advice like “be grateful” starts to carry meaning.
At P80, life is most likely comfortable. It is a level where it becomes easier both to be ambitious and to be content. Sometimes, contentment and ambition can feel like a blessing. Other times, they can feel like a tension you have to live between. However, when I went through failure, I realized that there is another state: a state in which you can be content and grateful, yet still thrive. It is a state that sits in most people’s blind spot. It is a state of being fruitful.
In early 2026, I heard a sermon at JPCC about flourishing in God. It focused on having the right foundation and growing into a fruitful life, drawing especially from Psalm 92:12–15 and John 15:4–5. Psalm 92 speaks of the righteous flourishing like a palm tree and growing like a cedar of Lebanon, while John 15 reminds us that true fruitfulness comes from abiding in Christ. The message was not only about contribution, but also about being deeply rooted in God. In this state, pressure becomes a means of growth rather than destruction. It does not crush a person’s spirit, but instead helps them grow. When someone is rooted in God, gratefulness and contentment become a steady posture, and the world cannot easily take them away.
At first, when I heard this sermon, I mainly thought that being a Christian meant you needed to be tough. But what happened in early March changed that perspective. In early March, I made an irreversible decision that nearly brought me to one of the darkest points of my life. I cannot fully describe it, but I know with certainty that my life will never be the same. What made it even heavier was the feeling that a single mistake had undone years of progress. I am deeply grateful that my close friends, my parents, and my little brother stood by me. Because of their support, I was able to begin recovering mentally while also trying to find the most rational way forward.
That experience changed how I understood the message. I now see that it is not simply about being tough. It is about striving while remaining grateful and content. It challenges the kind of dichotomous thinking that many modern people fall into.
I have often heard statements like: “You should not be content, you should strive for more,” “Poor people are grateful, and they do not go anywhere,” “Life is not a race, you should just be content,” and “Slow living is what people should aspire to.” These conversations often revolve around dichotomous thinking, a habit of seeing the world in black and white. But the Bible has taught me that there is a state where both can coexist. You can be grateful and still grow. You can be content and still answer your calling. But this is only possible when your striving is not shaped by greed or distraction, but by rootedness in God.
Restless striving
Fruitful flourishing
Drained and stuck
Peaceful but passive
High drive, low contentment is a state where you need to be especially cautious about the dangers of striving. This is the state I often fall into, the trap of overconfidence, relying too heavily on my own thinking as the sole basis for decision-making. It is fueled by ambition that is not grounded in identity, but shaped by societal expectations. In this state, I constantly feel inadequate when I encounter something better.
This is also a state that modern society tends to reward. When achievement and material success become the basis for judging people, this mindset becomes normalized. That is precisely why it is dangerous. It can pull you in without you realizing it, and the fall can be significant before you even become aware of it.
Low drive, high contentment is often labeled as laziness, but it can be more complex than that. Sometimes, it is a reaction to failure, a way of coping after falling from the first state. It can be a form of self-protection when someone feels unable to attain what they once pursued.
However, this state does not produce true peace. It can feel like peace on the surface, but underneath, it may be avoidance. Over time, it can slowly drain a person if left unexamined. While it can resemble the laziness described in Proverbs 24:33, there is a deeper risk, losing momentum after having once experienced it. That loss can be more dangerous than never having had momentum at all, because it can trap a person in a false sense of peace mixed with regret.
Low drive, low contentment is a state with its own gravity. It can emerge from accumulated regret or from the failure of coping mechanisms in the previous state. This is the state I fear the most, a state close to despair.
From a psychological perspective, this can resemble learned helplessness, where repeated setbacks reduce a person’s sense of agency. In some cases, it may also involve underlying neurochemical factors, such as depression or other mood disorders. In this state, external support, whether relational, psychological, or medical, can become essential.
Transitioning into a state of high drive and high contentment is non-trivial. From a neurobiological perspective, this state can be framed as a relatively stable balance between dopaminergic and serotonergic systems. Dopamine is commonly associated with motivation, goal-directed behavior, and reward prediction, while serotonin is linked to mood regulation, satiety, and a sense of well-being. Many individuals experience an imbalance, for example, high dopaminergic drive with low baseline contentment, which can manifest as persistent striving without satisfaction.
At its core, in my point of view, this state is theological. It is not something sustained by human effort alone, but by being rightly oriented toward God. Scripture points to this through the idea of abiding. In John 15:4–5, fruitfulness does not come from striving harder, but from remaining in Him. In Psalm 92:12–15, flourishing is not self-produced, but the result of being planted in the house of the Lord.
Significant life events can shape a person deeply, but they do not determine the direction of that change. The question then becomes whether we choose to return to His plan, or continue relying on our own understanding. If life is built solely on self-reliance, striving becomes exhausting and fragile. But when life is rooted in God’s will, striving and contentment are no longer opposites, they become aligned.
In this state, striving is no longer driven by comparison or fear, but by calling. Contentment is no longer passive, but anchored in trust. The perspective on life shifts, from self-centered effort to participation in God’s work. And in that shift, both growth and peace become possible at the same time.
