Last week, during class we discussed what it means to be an orphan. Yes, an orphan. In Luke 15, Jesus tells a parable of a father and his two sons, both of whom acted like orphans, even in their father’s house. The younger son, commonly known as the prodigal son, gave his father the biggest insult he could by asking for his share of the inheritance so that he could leave, implying that he wished his father was dead. It wasn’t enough for him to remain in the assurance of His father’s love and care. He was not secure in his identity as a son of his father, he felt like he had something to prove.
Later, after he squandered his father’s wealth, further insulting his benevolence, he found himself below the poverty line and starving. Through this humbling experience, he realized how much he left behind and returned to his father’s house begging to be allowed to return as a servant, lest he die of starvation. His father however, dismissed his apologies and overwhelmingly welcomed him home in love and honor. The younger son acted like an orphan in his father’s house, pursued his own way as an orphan, and finally came home humbled to realize that he was never orphaned and had been a son all along.
I had seen this story like this before, yet what I had missed was how the older brother also lived like an orphan in his father’s house. The older brother saw himself as more of a servant and not as a son. As a son, all that was his father’s was his. As a son, he was fully loved for who he was. Yet he felt no right to claim what was his own and felt the need to earn the right to even be in his father’s house. While he never left home, he lived in his father’s house as though he was an orphan.
Orphans, by no cause of their own, are at some level abandoned. Orphans have to learn to take care of themselves because if they don’t, no one else will. Everything they have must be earned; nothing is free. Even in homes with their parents, children can grow up as orphans. And, unless something changes, how we see ourselves as children will determine how we see ourselves as adults.
You see, while no one has perfect parents, this orphan mindset didn’t even originate with them. Back in the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve chose to act like orphans, desiring to choose to define right and wrong for themselves rather than trust their Father to perfectly and completely provide for them. So, now every child is born as an orphan in this world. Our Father has so graciously given us parents to help us see what it means to belong and be loved, but even they messed it up, sometimes making it better, sometimes making it much, much worse.
And the worst of it all is that how we feel in our identities as the children of our parents is what we extrapolate onto our identities as children of God our Father. Personally, in my home I associated my identity with my productivity in my family. I believed that the more helpful I was, the more loved and favored I was. And from a young child, I did my best to take care of myself, because sometimes, if I didn’t, I felt like no one else would. Even though I was a very beloved child in my home, I have lived like an orphan in many ways. I have striven for independence and to take care of myself whenever possible. It feels like weakness to me to accept favors, which in reality has been my parents showing their loving acceptance of me as their child. In nearly everything, I have had something to prove, even if only to myself.
This really grieves me to look back on. I didn’t mean to live like an orphan, I was just doing what I thought I had to in order to survive. Unfortunately, these thought patterns really have a way of sticking. Even now at 24, I still live like an orphan sometimes. I still seek to take care of myself, both physically and emotionally, because I have something to prove. And what makes it worse is realizing that I have lived and often still live in my Father God’s house as an orphan. I live like I must earn God’s acceptance and favor, and that my place in the Kingdom of God is only for what I can offer at the table. I live like I am not entitled to any of the blessings and goodness that the Lord has already freely given to me. I struggle to see God as a present, dependable Father that genuinely hears my prayers, welcomes my tears, and rejoices to forgive.
Now that I know that I have lived as an orphan, I don’t want to live like one anymore, especially in my Father’s house. The first step to defeating a lie is recognizing it, exposing it, and speaking truth against it. However, as much as I wish it would, this lie is not going to dissipate overnight. It’s taken 24 years to build this façade, and I have no idea how many years the Lord will use to tear it down piece by piece in order to rebuild the truth. And as frustrating as it can be sometimes, this process is okay. In fact, it is very, very good. It’s hard though, and so the other day the Lord led me to speak these words over my life: “I am on a Journey. Be Patient in the Process of Becoming.” “The Holy Place of the In Between and Not Yet.” These truths are hard for me because I like to take care of myself, to get over the grief quickly, and to move on. Once again, an orphan mindset. But the whole point of lasting change that I seem to have missed is that lasting change takes time to create. To remind myself of this, I put those words up on my wall above my bed because I want to be a person who lets the Lord do what it takes to create this lasting change.
I don’t know what good work the Lord is creating in you, but, if it is good, it will take time and it will be worth it. Do yourself a favor and give the Lord the freedom to take His time creating this masterpiece in you. The pain of the process is good. It is the pressure it takes to bring the beautiful refining change in your life. Let yourself sit in the presence of the Lord without silencing the pain but let it be a prayer of patience and humility before a God who cares and is painstaking gentle with your tender heart when you submit it to Him.
If you will, join me in this prayer to our Father whom I feel as though I am getting to know for the first time all over again.
Lord God Almighty. Thank you for your mercy and your patience to pursue me, your child, even when I am living like an orphan. Lord, there is a lot of redemption that I deeply desire for my heart. The process hurts, sometimes I just want it to stop, but I am going to trust you and your goodness and choose to partner with you in the process of creating in me the child and heir that you intended for me to be. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
Until next time,
Christy
