For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” (Romans 8:15)
The Holy Spirit is someone who first all lets us know that we are children of God. More central to the Gospel is this truth than being led or empowered by the Holy Spirit, whatever that might look like.
I have some friends who are going to great lengths to adopt a second child. The cost involved is great, both personally and financially. However, I know it’s totally worth it to them. Those who only have natural-born children don’t know what its like to adopt children. It can be challenging on many different levels. Sometimes the adopted children have an identity crisis as they go through their adolescent years and find their identity. “What does it mean that I’m adopted? What’s wrong with me? Did my biological parents not want me?” It’s not that way with every adopted child; some are happily adjusted into their adopted families.
What does it mean to be a child of God? Do I really belong in this family? But what if I have done x, y and z? I don’t deserve to be part of this family because God, my Heavenly Father, is perfect. So our thoughts may go.
The Holy Spirit confirms to our spirit that we really are sons and daughters of the most high God, that we really do belong as part of this amazing family.
We get to have the most intimate relationship with Father God, “Abba! Father!”
The basis of the prophetic involves an understanding that we are God’s children. As a father talks to his children, so our Heavenly Father talks to all of his adopted children. We are all his children.
Being a son or daughter entails being secure in our identity. Our identity as children gives us confidence. It gives us confidence in who we are because of whose we are. It gives us confidence to enter the intimate place with the Father with boldness. We do not have to fear. We do not have to tremble. Nothing is going to change the fact that we are sons and daughters of the King.
The best analogy I can offer is that when I used to come to my dad’s business, I did not need to stand behind the counter to wait my turn to see if I could talk to my dad. I walked around the front counter past the office help and went to find my dad. I didn’t need an appointment. As children we acted like we owned the place.
By Ralph Veenstra