Month: September 2018

I’ve lived in quite a few places. It can be kind of fun to learn what natives call themselves. Some are quirky or open for debate. Ask any Sooner or Michigander and you’ll see what I mean. Others are pretty straightforward. Virginia = Virginian. Texas = Texan.

We can add the suffix -ian onto lots of words and understand that it means someone who belongs to the root word. Italian. American. Mexican.

This got me thinking about the word Christian. You see, if I ask people what it means to be a Christian, a lot of times the answer is that it means to be a follower of Christ. That’s true, but it leaves out something important. To be a Christian is not just to be a follower of Christ, but a Christ-ian. One belonging to Christ.

There were lots of people who followed Jesus during His ministry years. But not all of them were Christians. As a matter of fact, John tells us that “many of his disciples turned away and deserted him” (John 6:66). Following Christ isn’t enough because it leaves open the possibility of turning away. Belonging to Christ brings us into His family. It leads to a bond that’s unbreakable.

Our best and only hope is to belong to Christ. He purchased us at great personal cost, His own lifeblood (1 Peter 1:19). Now we are marked as His. Our names are written on the palm of His hand (Isaiah 49:16). We’re listed in the Book of Life (Revelation 20:15).

God didn’t purchase our freedom so that He could make us slaves. He purchased our freedom so that we would be free. We have the opportunity to no longer be controlled by sin, but to be self-controlled. To choose for ourselves.

Just like any lover, God says I want you to be mine because you choose me.

In freedom, we choose to give our hearts to Christ. Because we love Him. We are His.

This is what it means to be a Christian.

It was a cold, rainy night. My husband was working late, so when it came time to make dinner, I wasn’t overly motivated to pull out all the stops. Soup and grilled cheese, I thought. Everyone likes that and it’s super easy.

I had recently made tomato soup kind of from scratch (there were still canned tomatoes involved) and I thought everyone had liked it, so I proceeded to make it again. Bread. Cheese. Soup. Voila! Dinner is served.

The five of us sat down to eat. Conversation went around the table and eventually I noticed that my 9 year old had that look on her face. The one that says, “I am utterly disgusted by the food my mother is forcing me to eat.” So I asked, “Everything alright?” Her reply, “Yeah, it’s good. It’s just that I don’t really like chunky soup.”

My gut response: What?!?  Don’t you know that I made this for you? I hate it when you’re ungrateful!

What I said was, “I made this for you. It is good and it’s good for you. I would never serve you something that is bad for you. This is what’s for dinner.”

Right then, my Heavenly Dad said, “Hey, that’s you.”

Ouch. Yes. That’s true. God had served me some things I didn’t really care for lately. A complete uprooting. A hard prune. Instead of trusting that He loved me and was providing me nourishment that I needed, that was good for me, I was dragging my feet, choking it down, and grumbling, “I don’t like chunky soup.”

Here’s the thing. I DON’T like chunky soup. God doesn’t necessarily ask us to like what He serves us. He just asks us to trust Him, to trust in His goodness. He is a good Father.

You parents – if your children ask for a loaf of bread, do you give them a stone instead? Or if they ask for a fish, do you give them a snake? Of course not! So if you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask him.

Matthew 7:9-11