Who Am I: The Adopted

It's a cool, rainy day today. Sitting in my workshop, watching the rain fall, I'm thinking about a question posed in a Bible class that I currently attend: Who am I, really?

Looking below the surface at this question brings up a lot of strong feelings in me. Am I my mistakes, my errors, my failures? Many days, I feel that way. But those define me only if I choose to let them; they are simply a part of me and what I have done in life.


Am I my talents? I like to fancy myself as a guitarist, as I have put in many years of practice at it, but that is a very limited part of who I am. Am I a father, a son, a friend, an employee? Only if I look at my existence in a very limited way. Were I an atheist, I would say that I am simply a biological machine; were I a spiritualist, I would say that I am just a spirit inhabiting a body. All of these are lacking to describe who I truly am.

God tells me who I am, and describes it magnificently. I am His beloved. I have received His spirit of adoption. I am a joint heir of His Kingdom. I am one for whom the body of His Son was broken, and for whom His blood was shed. I am made by Him, fearfully and wonderfully, and have been made new in my soul by Him. I am His child, His lost lamb, His prodigal son.

It has always been a difficult thing for me to personalize "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son." For God so loved me that He gave His only begotten Son is a humbling and awe-inspiring thought to internalize.

But it's true.

I am His beloved child.