Parenting: The Only Path To Purpose?

Not for everyone. And that's ok!

Photo by Addisen on Unsplash

Vice President JD Vance and his wife Usha Vance are expecting their fourth child.

When I heard the news recently, I was happy for them.

Parenthood is one of life’s great joys and profound responsibilities. There’s something beautiful about a public figure unashamedly celebrating family life in an age that often treats children as obstacles to self-actualization rather than blessings.

At the 2026 March for Life, Vice President Vance made a statement that resonated with many: Americans won’t find purpose “in a cubicle or in front of a computer screen” but instead through parenthood and “creation of human life.” There’s something deeply right about the concern animating this statement. Our culture does push shallow definitions of success. We do worship at the altar of career advancement and material accumulation. The loneliness epidemic is real—according to the U.S. Surgeon General, nearly half of American adults report experiencing loneliness. The birth rate has dropped to 1.62 children per woman, well below replacement level.

But here’s where we need to pump the brakes: Is the solution really to prescribe a single path to purpose for all Americans?

The Problem With Prescriptive Purpose

American culture has always had a complicated relationship with the question of meaning. In the 1950s, it was the nuclear family in the suburbs. In the 1980s, it was climbing the corporate ladder. In the 2010s, it was disrupting industries and building startups. Now, in some circles, it’s having lots of children and rejecting careerism entirely.

The pendulum swings, but the underlying assumption remains the same: there’s a formula for purpose, and if you just follow it, you’ll find fulfillment.

The Westminster Shorter Catechism offers a different framework: “Man’s chief end is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever.” Notice what this doesn’t say. It doesn’t say man’s chief end is to have children or avoid cubicles. It says our purpose is to glorify God and find our joy in Him.

This is simultaneously more specific and more expansive than Vance’s formulation. More specific because it names the actual source of purpose: God Himself. More expansive because it opens up countless ways this purpose might be lived out across different lives, seasons, and callings.

Some Really Do Find Meaning in “Cubicle Work”

Let’s talk about those cubicles, because the data tells a more complex story. According to Gallup’s 2024 State of the Global Workplace report, while overall engagement remains low (only 33% of U.S. workers report being engaged), those who do find their work meaningful report significantly higher life satisfaction across all domains—including family life.

I know life coaches who help people make gameplans for their lives. I know customer service representatives who see every interaction as an opportunity to show dignity to frustrated people. These aren’t people deluding themselves about meaningless work. They’ve found ways to grow in patience, skill, and character through their daily labor.

The Apostle Paul wrote to the Colossians: “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving” (Colossians 3:23-24).

Whatever you do.

Not “whatever you do, as long as it’s parenting.”

The problem isn’t cubicles. The problem is when we work anywhere for the wrong reasons: for status, for approval, for the numbing distraction of busyness. But that’s equally true of parenting. You can have four kids and still be chasing the wrong things—using your children as status symbols or validation of your worth.

The vehicle isn’t the issue. The orientation of the heart is.

Not Everyone Is Called to Parenthood

Here’s an uncomfortable truth that needs saying: not everyone is called to be a parent. And that’s okay.

When I was growing up, I was sure that becoming a father and having two kids was going to be in my future. But that hasn’t happened yet, and I’m not sure if it will or not. It’s a strange thing to realize that the life you assumed would be yours might take a different shape entirely—and to have to wrestle with what that means for your sense of purpose and calling.

Consider the numbers: According to Pew Research, about 44% of non-parents ages 18-49 say it’s not too likely or not at all likely they will have children someday. Some of this reflects economic anxiety—housing costs have skyrocketed, student debt burdens are unprecedented, and many feel the world is too scary to bring children into. But some reflects genuine differences in calling and capacity. Some people are called to singleness. Some are called to marriage but not to biological children. Some face infertility. Some adopt. Some pour their lives into nieces, nephews, and the children of their communities.

Paul himself was single and childless. So was Jesus. So were many influential figures throughout history—from the early desert fathers and mothers to Corrie ten Boom and Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Were their lives less purposeful because they didn’t create biological life?

The creation mandate in Genesis—”be fruitful and multiply”—was given to humanity collectively, not as an individual requirement for every person.

The Many Faces of Fruitfulness

When Jesus talks about bearing fruit in John 15, He’s not talking about biological reproduction. He’s talking about spiritual fruitfulness—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness. He’s talking about making disciples. He’s talking about lives that point others toward God.

According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, about 28% of Americans volunteer their time—roughly 60.7 million people. They mentor at-risk youth, serve in homeless shelters, build homes with Habitat for Humanity, advocate for policy changes, care for the elderly. Many of these volunteers are childless by choice or circumstance, and they’re finding profound purpose in service.

I think of the single woman in my church who has mentored dozens of younger women through faith crises and relationship struggles. I think of the childless couple who opened their home to foster teenagers that no one else would take. I think of the man who spent thirty years working for a nonprofit that brought clean water to villages in East Africa.

Are these lives less purposeful because they didn’t involve biological parenthood?

The danger in Vance’s statement isn’t that he’s wrong about parenthood being meaningful—it absolutely is. The danger is in the implicit suggestion that it’s the primary or superior path to purpose. That’s not just theologically questionable; it’s pastorally harmful to the many faithful people living out different callings.

Questions Worth Asking

So how do we think rightly about purpose and calling? Here are some questions worth sitting with:

• Am I seeking to live purposefully in my current circumstances, or am I waiting for different circumstances to start living meaningfully?

• What gifts and capacities do I have, and how am I developing them for others’ good?

• Am I defining success by cultural metrics (productivity, status, wealth, even family size) or by growth in character and faithfulness to my particular calling?

• How am I growing in patience, wisdom, skill, and love through my current responsibilities?

The Chief End Remains

Here’s what I wish Vance had said: “Americans won’t find purpose in the shallow pursuits our culture celebrates—whether that’s mindless careerism, consumerism, or the endless scroll of digital distraction. We’ll find purpose in knowing God and living for His glory, which might look like devoted parenthood for some, meaningful work for others, sacrificial service for still others. The key isn’t the specific calling but the orientation of our hearts toward the One who calls us.”

That would have been both more accurate and more pastorally sensitive.

Parenthood is a high calling. So is singleness lived well. So is work done with integrity and purpose. So is service to the vulnerable. So is creativity that reflects beauty and truth. So is friendship that bears one another’s burdens. Each of these paths offers unique opportunities for growth, for developing virtues, for becoming more fully human.

The chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. That’s the North Star. Everything else—including the good gift of parenthood—is a means to that end, not the end itself.

The question isn’t whether you’re in a cubicle or a nursery. The question is whether you’re living purposefully wherever you are, growing in wisdom and character, contributing to human flourishing in your particular sphere. Answer that question rightly, and you’ll find the purpose that Vance rightly says our culture is missing. Answer it wrongly, and you can have four kids and still be lost.

Congratulations again to the Vances. May they raise their children to know that their chief end is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever—and may those children grow up to live that out in whatever callings God gives them, whether that looks like their parents’ path or something entirely different.