Free at last, free at last

But to all who did receive Him, who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.  John 1: 12-13

What does it mean to believe in His name?  To really believe in His name?  

If, for instance, I have one of those illumination moments, a blaze of clarity and understanding that yes indeed this is He, the Word, who has come to bring me life, and abundantly, and I fall to my knees and worship Him in all humility and need- is that enough?  Once a child of God, always a child of God?

Because quite honestly, my thoughts and my feelings and my actions do not so much demonstrate one who believes.  Sure, there are those moments where faith takes a grip and propels me into an Abraham-offering-up-Isaac-his-son moment.  Wow. Where did that come from?  The Spirit who lives within.  

But bunches of times, not so much.  My feelings are haunted by fear or unforgiveness or apathy.  I can do them all.  In one day.  No problem.  And my thoughts can swirl with questions or doubts or how does this work anyway?  One has to allow for a lot of mystery working through Scriptures, which makes sense because my puny human brain is not God nor my ways, His ways.  But there are lots of those cloudy glass moments.  And then there’s the flat-out life-is-tough action moments.  Every day I stare at the equivalent of a beloved child flopping helplessly in my arms, and I can but echo the father’s prayer: LORD, I believe. Help my unbelief.  Pretty much my favorite verse in the Bible. Lays it right out there for us all to see.  

That and old Paul calling a spade a spade: So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death?

Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord! 

Not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.  It’s all about Him, His love, His faithfulness, His mercy.

There is the heart-wrenching beauty in the old Negro spirituals articulating the profound realization that I am indeed in bondage and some day, one day that sweet chariot will carry me home.