No Longer a Slave

What would you do for yourself, if you were a little child?
I love to ask myself this question. Sometimes, I just need a snack, or some kind words. Have you ever heard a mother, speaking to a wailing, angry, misbehaved child with a soft voice saying, “I know, you’re hungry and tired. Let’s go get you something to eat.”

Yes, that child could be up to just about anything. They could be insulting someone else, picking a fight, kicking, falling into a puddle on the floor… anything. And still, the mother understands.

That is how I’ve come to treat my inner child — when I am conscious of it.

It is sometimes a hard order to fill. “Oh, you don’t feel up to working? You just want to rest?”  I’ll ask my inner child. Sometimes the adult in me wants to tell that inner child, “Well, too bad. You have to work,” or, you have to do the dishes, pay the bills, or whatever ‘adult responsibility’ of the moment it is that seems to be staring me in the face. How can you take care of the inner child when there are ‘adult responsibilities’?

Jesus is my wonderful teacher in this area. When he was teaching his disciples how to pray, he would council that they call to ‘Abba’. Papa. Father. Daddy. 

He trusted that his Papa would take care of him. He was a child. God’s child.

The biggest fear that I have when trying to apply this teaching is that if I try it out… if I become that child and trust in my Father… He will let me down. Maybe He will overlook something I need, or be busy with something else. Maybe he can not take care of all of us. Maybe I need to be self sufficient and fight my way with gritted teeth when things get tough, because I’m the only one that can really, really take care of me. This is my fear, my doubt, my nagging suspicion. I concoct back-up plans… just in case God doesn’t hear and understand my needs.

This is how I operate sometimes. When I read the Bible this morning, I was reminded that I am a child of God, and that I no longer need to second guess His capacities. I am no longer a slave. I am cared for. I am loved. God sent His Son, Jesus, to redeem me.

But when the fullness of the time came, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the Law, so that He might redeem those who were under the Law, that we might receive the adoption as sons. Because you are sons, God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” Therefore you are no longer a slave, but a son; and if a son, then an heir through God.” (Galatians 4:1-7)

The words in the middle of the verse resonated with me. I can feel those words being cried out from my heart. “Abba! Father!” I want to be taken care of. I want to be a child again. I want to know that everything — every little practical, real thing — is completely handled for me. Children play. Children trust.


I wanted to share this song with you today:

I love to crank it up, loud, in the kitchen while I write, cook, or wash dishes. There is an intersection between my life with God, and my everyday, mundane life. The intersection seems to widen, widen, widen. I step into it and don’t want to step out. Perhaps one day I will live in that space all of the time.

Thank you for listening.
Love to you, and prayers.


(image credit of Jesus with girl:

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