How a Father’s Heart Points to Our Adoption in Christ
Reflections on fatherhood, disobedience, and the profound beauty of God’s adoption through Christ.
This morning, my Advent devotional cited Galatians 4, where the apostle Paul writes, “When the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons” (Gal 4:4-5). Elsewhere, Paul reminds believers, “You did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’” (Ro 8:15).
This image of God adopting sinners through his legitimate Son, Jesus Christ, is profoundly beautiful. We don’t deserve to be part of his family. God was under no obligation to bring us in, yet he does. He calls us his sons and daughters, just as his own Son. He even sends his Spirit into our hearts so we can know him as our loving Father and cry out, “Abba! Father!” (Gal 4:6).
I’ve known for more than forty years what it’s like to be a child of a parent. But I couldn’t fully understand what it means to be a father until I became one. I’ve gained new insights into God the Father in the six years since I entered fatherhood.
My family started the “Elf on the Shelf” tradition a few years ago. We have two elves—one for my daughter and one for my son. We don’t follow the storyline in the book. Our elves don’t report back to Santa. We’ve always told our kids that Santa is a fictional character. For us, the fun is simply watching our kids search the house each morning to see what kind of shenanigans the elves have been up to. It’s harmless.
We have only one rule about the elves: Don’t touch them. For three years, our kids followed this rule. They even warned us if we got too close: “Mom! Dad! Don’t touch the elves!” They knew the rule well.
That’s why we were surprised when, earlier this week, my four-year-old son decided to move the boy elf to his bed. I’m not sure what he was thinking. Maybe he thought we’d believe the elf moved himself to have a sleepover. Whatever his reasoning, he moved the elf when no one was looking.
I walked into his room and saw the elf had been moved. “Who moved the elf?” I asked. Both of my kids denied it. “I don’t know,” they said. My wife asked the same question and got the same answer. We were so convinced they were telling the truth that we turned to each other. “Did you move the elf?” “No, did you?” “No.”
Eventually, we concluded it must have been my son. After some gentle prodding, he admitted it. But his lie was surprisingly convincing. I didn’t know a four-year-old could have such a good poker face.
To drive home the importance of honesty, the elf disappeared, leaving a note about telling the truth. The girl elf stayed behind, holding a Bible and pointing to Colossians 3:9: “Do not lie to one another.”
One rule. One commandment. All my son had to do was not touch the elf. And when he did, all he had to do was confess. We’ve always made it clear that we forgive and show mercy. Just tell the truth. But he failed even at that.
I realize he’s only four, and this is typical behavior for children. I wasn’t surprised by his disobedience or even his lie. What surprised me was how much it hurt. It broke my heart a little.
It reminded me of a time when my daughter, then two, was upset with me and said, “Daddy, I don’t like you.” That stung more than I expected. My wife reassured me, “She doesn’t mean it. She’s only two.” I knew that, but hearing those words still hurt.
Moments like these make me think back to my own childhood. I wonder how my disobedience and disrespect affected my parents. I now have a better sense of what I put them through.
And then, I think about God the Father and what we’ve all put him through.
But there is one significant difference between God and me as a father. God willingly sacrificed his only true and perfectly obedient Son to adopt disobedient, ungrateful, even hateful children who wanted nothing to do with him. As Paul writes, “While we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son” (Ro 5:10).
All I can say is, praise God for the depth of his love and patience.