I was thinking about my little girl, Reegan, recently.
All of my children are precious and I am blessed to have them all. Their faces flash before my eyes regularly, but today my thoughts drifted to the youngest of my four children.
People find her very cute and want to talk with her. She gets the standard questions: What’s your name? How old are you? What’s that in your hands (usually a little dolly)?
Her first response rarely answers the question being asked. Instead, she usually points at me–her daddy–and with confidence says, “That’s my daddy!” as if I needed an introduction. She’s proud of me. It makes the strongest of Daddies crumble with joy.
Here’s what amazes me: she doesn’t find her identity in a name, a doll, or her last tv show. She simply knows to whom she belongs; and that’s all she needs.
As I thought about this, I realized how opposite I act with my Heavenly Daddy.
I would like to think I constantly find my identity in the Lord, but that’s not true. I keep my schedule stocked with all sorts of noble activities–all of which serve as markers for my own personal identity roadmap.
I define myself by what I do, not by whose I am. So when I fail at work, I’m a failure. When I succeed in graduate studies, I’m a successful student.
But the Lord is taking me through a redefinition; his definition.
The truth is, no matter to what I set my hands–whether worship leading, pastoring, teaching, or education–they are all a means to support myself and my family. They are not who I am, only what I do. My adoption as a child of the Father defines my identity.
I spend too much time working and studying and reading and watching tv, when really the Father would rather play catch or talk or laugh or simply be with me. His requirements are not much–simply to be accepted as His.
Perhaps this is what Jesus spoke of when he said “Seek first the Kingdom of Heaven.” And then the things you enjoy–like studying and reading and whatever else–will come along as well.
Until then, may you enjoy catching pop-ups from the Father.