To be a child.....

"See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should called children of God, and so we are. " 1 John 3:1
To be called a child...what does that mean? I suppose that depends.
How was your childhood? Who were your parents? Did you like them?
Did they like you?
Did you like you?
Were you happy, as a child?
Maybe not.
Maybe the thought of being taken back to your childhood is enough to send you running in the opposite direction...the thought of being in the position of a child--helpless, dependent, resourceless--makes your gut clench.
Maybe your childhood was idyllic. Maybe you had the Barbie dreamhouse and a pony, I don't know.
Maybe you spent your childhood just trying to survive.
When we read certain passages of Scripture, we get really churchy. We forget that our association with certain words and phrases isn't necessarily "the norm." We have blinders on, and we forget the brokenness around us, even with our own people. I forget it even with myself; I find myself hurtling through Bible verses, forgetting to stop and to breathe it in. I forget to let the Word sink in and penetrate into the cracks and into the broken places....to let it seep in and flood the devastated places (and there are so many...more than I could possibly know).
We do our duty...we read the Word, and we bypass the sting. Take a breath, though.
Think about it. What does it mean, to you, to be called someone's "child?"
I could tell you about my childhood, but the truth is, I don't remember a lot of it. What I do remember, I've been told, isn't always correct. I am not going to sit here and relive the highs-and-lows. It's too tangled. Also, thanks to a ridiculously vivid imagination and a tendency to have incredibly life-like dreams, my childhood memories are a conglomerate of confusion.
I'm 34, but to my mom, I'm always going to be her baby. I have proven myself to be mouthy, narcissistic, pretentious, and kinda crazy. She still loves me. She still wishes God's best for me. She supports my marriage, she loves my husband, and she is there. That's what it means, to be the child of Donna Petrini. It's not always easy, but I am always loved--even when she doesn't agree with my choices.
I wish I could have grown up with that understanding. I wish I would have understood that I was loved, as a child, but I didn't get it. It's not anyone's fault...I just have a weird "love language" than my mom, and we had a lot of communication issues. It's why I struggle with feeling heard, why I constantly feel the need to be reaffirmed. I grew up feeling like no one spoke my language, and as a result, I spent a lot of time in a book. My imaginary worlds spoke fluent Cassidy, and conflicts were few.
So, what does it mean, to me, to be called Someone's child? It means that I know retrospect will be kind to me. It means that right now, I am having communication issues with my Father. It means that I have to pause at verse one of this chapter, and that I can't go any further. It means that since Christmas, that I can't stop asking the question, "why would You do this? Why in the world would You pick me? Why did You choose me, why do You choose any of us? What is this for? I struggle with insignificance, with laziness, with a lack of follow-thru. I am ordinary, whiny, and at the basest level, God, I am a failure in every possible area of my life....so Father, (You have put Yourself in that position), why did You pick me?"
We sing praise...we worship, and I know in my deepest of hearts that through it all, I choose Jesus. But why in the world did He choose me? I cling to phrases like "He delights in me, " but battle with a barrage of "if He liked you, you'd be pregnant." "He likes her more, she pleases Him more." The Word says that He calls me His child....it says that He wouldn't give me a stone if I asked for bread....but I'm starving, and my pockets feel like they're full of rocks.
Being His child means that the things I see right now are not what is. It means that I shake off the reality for the supernatural. It means that I cling to the vision when all I feel is blindness, when my communication with my Father is on the fritz.
I could disown my mother; she could disown me. She could write me out of the will and close the doors of her home;I could walk away for the rest of my life. It wouldn't change the fact that I am her daughter. It wouldn't change the fact that she is my mother. My heart would always ache for her acceptance, and (I know this to be true) a mother never, ever gives up hope for her child. Once you belong to a parent, you are always connected.
I belong to Him.
I am His child....a child that is entirely dependant, entirely defenseless, entirely at His mercy. He has called me His own, and it's not like reliving the confusing childhood that I remember. Being His means that He knows when He's not getting through...so He puts people in my life to pass His love along. Sometimes, He even lets me pass it along to someone else.
"We should be called children of God...and so we are."
It's as simple as that, in spite of how I (how we) get it twisted. The enemy tries to get in, to say it's not true...that He doesn't like me or you. The enemy preys on my childhood perceptions, and it's so hard for me to break through. He has me in my weakest places, and it's such a battle...but the Word says "and so we are," so I have no other choice but to believe it.
I belong to Jesus.
God is my Father, and in spite of my childhood fears and inadequacies, He loves me. It doesn't make sense, but He picked me. He picked you, too.
He chose all of us.