Our Identity as God's Children

     Fear keeps us at a distance. We've all felt it - that hesitation before approaching someone important, that moment of doubt before speaking up. Now imagine feeling that way about prayer. For many Christians, prayer can feel like approaching a stern authority figure rather than a loving Father. But Paul's words in Romans 8:15-17 changes our understanding of prayer by revealing our true identity as God's children.
     Let's start with a simple truth: We weren't always God's children. Paul tells us we once had a "spirit of slavery" leading to fear. Think about that word - slavery. It's not just about physical bondage; it's about a mindset, a way of relating to God that keeps us cowering in the corner rather than running to His arms. This spirit of slavery manifests in our prayer life when we approach God as if He's keeping score, waiting to catch us doing something wrong. But everything changes with adoption. Paul says we've "received the Spirit of adoption as sons." In the Roman world of Paul's day, adoption wasn't just about giving an orphan a home. It was a powerful legal act that gave the adopted child all the rights and privileges of a natural-born heir. When you were adopted, your old debts were canceled, your former relationships were severed, and you gained all the rights of your new family name.
     This is what God has done for us, but He's gone even further. The Spirit leads us to cry out "Abba, Father!" This Aramaic word "Abba" was a term of intimate familial relationship - like saying "Papa" or "Dad." It's the same word Jesus used when He prayed in the garden of Gethsemane. Think about that - we're invited to address God with the same intimate language Jesus used. This isn't just permission to use certain words; it's an invitation into the same kind of relationship Jesus has with the Father.
     But how can we be sure this is real? Paul addresses this doubt directly. The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we're God's children. This isn't just wishful thinking or positive self-talk. It's a supernatural testimony, a deep inner certainty produced by God's Spirit connecting with our human spirit. When we pray, we're not just speaking words into the void - we're experiencing the reality of our adoption as the Spirit confirms our status as God's children. Paul doesn't stop at adoption; he pushes forward to inheritance. "If children, then heirs - heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ." The implications are staggering. Everything that belongs to Christ belongs to us. We're not just forgiven sinners scraped into heaven by God's mercy; we're full members of the family with all the rights and privileges that come with that status.
     But there's a sobering addition to this glorious truth: "provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him." Our inheritance is inseparably linked with suffering. This isn't punishment or some kind of entry fee - it's the path Jesus walked, and as His fellow heirs, we walk it too. When we suffer as Christians, we're not just enduring meaningless pain; we're participating in Christ's own journey from suffering to glory.
     This understanding transforms how we pray. Think about how children approach their parents when they have a good relationship. They come freely, speaking honestly, expressing their needs and feelings without fear of rejection. They might be respectful, but they're not formal. They might be reverent, but they're not distant. This is how we can pray - should pray - as God's adopted children.
     This identity as God's children affects everything about our spiritual life. It changes how we read Scripture - not just as a rulebook, but as letters from our Father. It changes how we view trials - not just as random difficulties, but as the family path we share with Christ. It changes how we view sin - not just as breaking rules, but as acting contrary to our new nature as God's children. But perhaps most importantly, it changes how we view God. He's not just the Creator, the Judge, or the King (though He is all these things). He's our Father. And not a distant, disinterested father, but one who has gone to extraordinary lengths to make us His children, giving us His Spirit, making us His heirs, and inviting us to share both the suffering and glory of His beloved Son.
     This understanding should impact our prayer life. We can come to God with boldness - not because we're worthy, but because we're family. We can be honest about our struggles - not because we're giving Him new information, but because that's what children do with their fathers. We can trust His answers to our prayers - not because we've figured out the right formula, but because He's a good Father who gives good gifts to His children.
     The wonderful truth is that this identity as God's children isn't something we have to earn or maintain. It's a gift given through the Spirit, confirmed by the Spirit, and guaranteed by our status as fellow heirs with Christ. Yes, there will be suffering along the way, but even that suffering confirms our identity - we suffer with Christ as family members sharing His path to glory.
     So the next time you pray, remember who you are. You're not a slave cowering in fear. You're not a stranger hoping to be noticed. You're not even just a servant doing your duty. You're a child of God, speaking to your Father, empowered by His Spirit, and destined to share Christ's inheritance. This is your identity. This is your privilege. This is your destiny.
     And it all starts with a simple cry: "Abba, Father." When was the last time you prayed like that? Not with formal religious language, but with the simple trust of a child speaking to their father? Maybe it's time to set aside our religious formality and embrace the relationship God has given us. After all, that's what the Spirit within us is leading us to do.