First, a word about Dolly…
This is my first Still Waters since we lost Dolly Parton, and since I’m a Tennessean, I could not let the moment pass without saying something about a woman whose music, faith, humor, and enormous heart touched generations of people. Because this particular Still Waters has a little library story of its own, please consider supporting Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library, which sends children a free book of their very own every month from birth to age five.
Thank you, Dolly. For everything. 💗
Now, let’s go to CHURCH!
What God Finally Made Me Hear
“For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons and daughters by which we cry out, ‘Abba! Father!'”
Romans 8:15
Confession time. I have serious underlying issues with authority – which is a surprise to absolutely no one who knows me. I’ve seen it abused too many times throughout my life… from teachers to pastors to bosses to police officers. People with power sometimes wield it like a sword, and they cut people down for no reason except to show that they can. It’s because of this that I pretty much bristle at all authority and constantly challenge it. I toe that line like Rocky Burnette.
I remember one time in junior high school, I was in the library during study hall. We had just learned about peristalsis in 8th grade science class (shout out to Mrs. Julia Gardner; rest in peace, kind Ma’am). The esophagus pushes food down to your stomach using peristalsis, and gravity has nothing to do with it. Even though Mrs. Gardner said it was true, I was not convinced.
Mrs. Hillis, our school librarian, always had an eye on me, but I didn’t care. I was going to prove peristalsis that day whether she liked it or not. (For the record, RaAnn Hillis is one of the biggest fans of this blog and one of my most avid followers even after all my grade-school library hijinks!)
That day in the library, when she wasn’t looking, I stood on my head with my body leaning against one of the bookshelves and swallowed my gum (chewing gum in a carpeted library was yet another violation, but that was par for the Jenny course). If peristalsis was real, that gum would go to my stomach while I was upside down.
I got kicked out of the library that day, but Dr. Hassell did prove peristalsis in 1983 because “I am the science!” That’s the most benign example of me rebelling against authority that I could come up with, but trust me, there are way more exciting examples.
And so I have had this thing with prayer all my life where it feels weird and uncomfortable for me to start with “Father.” When people start prayers with “Father God,” it just hits me wrong sometimes. I start my prayers with “Lord,” which is not really that different in meaning when it comes to authority. Using “Lord” is submission and recognition that God is a much higher power than myself, and it’s appropriate, so I just roll with it because I’m not trying to pick a fight with God.
Recently, I have reflected on why saying “Father” makes me cringe. I prayed and asked for divine help with removing that unease because it’s just – I’ll say it – abnormal to physically react negatively to the word “father.” Prayer is powerful, and answers from God are real. Sometimes it just takes time to hear the answer, but I got an answer.
It was basically, “We’ll deal with your authority issues in due time. But right now, let’s ease into it by thinking of ‘father’ in a different way.”
And that “different way” is the epiphany I had. You know how there is a difference between “knowing” something and “realizing” something? It was like that. I have always known that God is my Father and that I am a child of God, but I knew it like it was a fact. I didn’t know it like it was an emotion or a feeling.
I have spent 56 years of life hearing “Father” primarily as a declaration of heavy-handed “just because”-type authority, but I had missed an entire other side of the meaning. If God is my Father, then that means I am God’s child. I have always been happy to claim servanthood, but I never claimed the access, protection, and identity that He was also giving me. I claimed the employer-employee relationship, but never the parent-child relationship.
Imagine suddenly realizing God not only wants to be your authority, but He also wants to be your loving Dad. It’s like I have been using my Google Pixel 9 Pro XL as a coaster and then the Holy Spirit showed me how to unlock it and discover all the features I’d had access to all along.
I have missed out on a life of feeling totally secure and confident in my place in the world. I have always felt like I had to fight for a spot, fight for the air to breathe, fight to be heard, and fight for space because I never felt like it was mine. I had to conquer it. Yet God was there the whole time willing to give security and belonging to me without a fight, but I couldn’t receive it because I only saw Him as a Boss and not as a Father.
And on the flip side, now that my eyes are open, I can imagine how God must have felt all this time. I prayed and worshipped Him out of pure obedience, which is okay in and of itself. But God was also on the other side wanting. Wanting me to trust that He was already loving me and claiming me. I was showing up for God’s work because I should, but God wanted me to show up for work because I felt like part of His family. He wanted me to realize it was as simple as Him just wanting me there. It was always as simple as Him knowing me, and me knowing all of Him.
That whole time…all those years…my Abba was there saying, “Take a chance, take a chance, take-a take-a chance chance, take a chance, take a chance, take-a take-a chance chance…”
Prayer for When I Forget I Belong
Father, help me remember that I belong to You. Teach me to trust that I am wanted, loved, and claimed as Your child. Thank You for always wanting me with You. Amen.