Some Days I'm Still an [Adopted] Prodigal

In the midst of doing so much in my life right now. I am busy with so many things. I've been going to sleep thinking, "I'm so tired," and waking up saying "I'm so tired," and in the middle of the day: "I'm so tired." It's got me thinking quite a bit about the difference between striving and fruit-bearing.

As I was sorting the mp3 sets, I came across a set that I did alone in the middle of the night a couple years ago. I was really touched. It's so funny; having done hundreds of sets at IHOP over the years, and suddenly hearing something from a couple years ago and being impacted all over again at the revelation.

Being adopted as I am, the Lord has taught me a thing or two about the "spirit of adoption." [Romans 8] I almost feel to an unfair advantage! I have known for the whole of my conscious life that I was adopted. I have also known without a shadow of a doubt that I am loved and accepted. I have known that, to my parents, I am a profound treasure; someone they waited years for, paid a high price for and sacrificed greatly that I may be called their daughter. Nothing could change that.

I love it when someone compliments my [adopted] parents on my looks..."Wow Dave, we sure know who Joanna's father is; she looks just like you." or "Susan, I knew right away this must be your daughter! There is a strong family resemblance!" I tend to chuckle inwardly and am prone to say, "I'm adopted" just to spare them embarrassment if they ever do find out, but my parents just take it all in, and even add to it! They always refer to genetic traits of theirs as if I've inherited them. "Yep, She's got the Reyburn constitution!" I remember having to remind my own mother that I was adopted, and therefore did not share her genetic heritage once when I was at the doctor filling out that form, "Has anyone in your immediate family every had [fill in the blank]. "

I love being adopted. Even when I went through that 16-year-old (or whenever) rebelliousness seemingly inherent to adolescence. There were times I [probably] yelled and told them I hated them. But the one thing I knew better than to say was...

I'm not really yours.

It's the same with the Lord, except to an infinitely greater degree. After the price He paid, the great lengths He went to that we could be His, that we constantly disqualify ourselves. I have began to reconsider the parable of the prodigal son. Upon his decision to return to his Father, what did the prodigal son do?

• Took judgment into his own hands
• Denied his sonship
• Disqualified affections, both his and His Father's
• Offered servitude as a replacement
• Tried to gain acceptance through strivings

I think of the phrase, "Something no man can take from me." No one can make me a not-son. It's just that simple. Something I DO does not change who I AM before the Lord, in the same way that in my own seasons of adolescent rebellion, I was in no way less a daughter of my parents. (Sonship is not a gender issue - it signifies our identity and inheritance.)

I have some friends in Canada say stuff like,

Q. "How are you doing?" A. "About an 8 out of 10. Heh?" (It's true, Canadians say that.)

We tend to think of our spiritual sonship identity like that. We tend to think about the manifestion of sonship in our lives like that. "I'm about 5 out of 10." But the reality is not primarily manifestation but position.

The reality is that NOW we are His [Romans 8, Galatians 3-4] sons of God through faith in Jesus Christ. Like the prodigal,

• We are sons. It's who we ARE. Nothing we could DO could change who we ARE.
• Nothing I say or do could ever gain anything. The love of God (unlike ours) is not a progression. As humans we are always changing. The shadow is always turning and we are either growing in love, or our affection is growing cold. With Him there is no variance, or shadow of turning. [James 1:17] He is outside time; He does not change. He has loved us to the end. He does not love us "more" or "less" today, He has loved us from everlasting, completely. Nothing we could do could make Him love us "more."
• As sons, we are called to bear fruit, and that our fruit would remain [John 15: 16] and to perform "good works" [James], but these do not define us.