By faith we understand.

The entire verse is a mind bender. But the first phrase packs enough stopping power to drop the bully of Western thinking to its metaphorical knees. In the West, faith and reason are kept in tidy, distinct categories. Reason is the way we understand. Faith is the way we cling to things that we either don’t understand or are in complete conflict with what we do understand. Faith is not the way we in the West understand. Faith is not the way we know things.

This is due to the way we understand faith. I hope you get the tension contained in this wording. Faith is not the way we understand understanding. But we think we understand faith. Makes me giggle a bit. Mostly, I think we understand faith to be a blind leap in the dark – a hopeful, if not presumptive grasping at that which is unreasonable. There’s just enough truth in this to be a trap. Faith is not arrived at through reason. This is true. My apologetic brain almost wishes reason was the path to faith. But just because reason is not the path to faith, it does not follow from this that faith is a blind leap in the dark. Dark is actually a nice metaphor for how we typically understand faith. We think of reason as light. The Enlightenment is, in a sense, thought of as the age of reason. The age prior to this is referred to as the Dark Ages. Reason is the way we see. From this view, faith is the way we hope against reason in the dark. But what if this is exactly the opposite of truth? What if faith is the way we see beyond reason in the light?

Faith does not operate in the dark. In fact, faith is itself a way of seeing, a way of knowing, a way of understanding. Faith is a way of seeing a kind of light that remains opaque to reason alone. Faith is not against reason, though reason can choose to oppose faith. Faith is a way of experiencing light that reason can only guess at. Faith grasps a light that leaves mere reason alone in a dark closet, closing in on itself, imploding, shriveling, eating away at that which can never truly satisfy.

The rest of this verse, having established faith as a means of knowing, of understanding, tells us what we grasp when we boldly stare into this bright light through eyes of faith. We understand that the universe is made of that which is unseen. We see the unseen underneath the seen, under-girding it, originating it, sustaining it, holding it together.

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. ” (John 1:1–5, ESV)

Christianity is not a faith we reason into. We cannot reason our way to Christ. In fact, Jesus came to rescue from the blindness of merely seeing through the eyes of reason. The total depravity of man is not so much about our wickedness (though this alone is a serious enough issue). Our true depravity is  in our blindness. We are born dead and the path to life is only visible to men who are alive. So we are stuck. He must come to us. He must lead us out of the dark. The One who sees must speak to those in the dark and lead them from darkness into light.

“So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ. ” (Romans 10:17, ESV)

“the people dwelling in darkness have seen a great light, and for those dwelling in the region and shadow of death, on them a light has dawned.” ” (Matthew 4:16, ESV)

“One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.” ” (John 9:25b, ESV)

1. You must examine the right person.

So often, when we are struggling to forgive ourselves, the obstacle we face is a deep awareness of our own guilt. We KNOW we are guilty. We did it. Forgiving ourselves can feel like the moral equivalent of saying 1+1=3. It’s just not right and saying that it is right doesn’t make it so. We know we’re guilty. Saying that we’re not just doesn’t sit well. As long as we are examining self, this will be our conclusion. But God, in forgiving us, doesn’t examine us. He examines Jesus. He declares us innocent, not on the basis of examining our righteousness (or lack thereof), but on the basis of examining Jesus’ righteousness. If I want to begin to see myself as righteous, the way God sees me, then I must begin to examine the right person. If I’m struggling to forgive myself, then very likely I am evaluating my own righteousness instead of Jesus’ righteousness.

2. You must receive grace at the level of identity.

Through the cross, God has provided an offering for our sin. Payment has been rendered for our guilt. God’s wrath toward sin has been propitiated through Jesus’ blood. It is possible to fully embrace this and still struggle to forgive self. We understand that payment has been made for what we’ve done, but we also retain a deep awareness that we are the kind of person who would do such things. We know we have a guilt problem. But we intuitively know that our problem is deeper than that. It’s not just that I commit sins; it’s that I am a sinner. It’s not just that I do bad things; it’s that I’m the kind of person who would do them. Our problem isn’t simply a behavior problem, it’s an identity problem. So though we accept Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross as God’s provision for our guilt, we remain aware of who we really are and live continually under that burden of shame. We need a revelation that on the cross, Jesus provided for more than just our guilt. Jesus took my guilt to the cross, but he took more than just my guilt. He took me to the cross too (see Gal 2:20). Once I begin to receive Jesus’ death, not just as God’s answer for my guilt, but also as God’s provision to make me a brand new kind of person, then I am able to see the old me as crucified, dead, and buried and can embrace God’s perspective about who I am in Christ.

3. You must exercise your will.

When I choose to examine my own lack of righteousness and judge myself guilty as a result, then I am, in that moment, exercising my will to agree with the accuser (the devil) about myself. When I choose to bring my guilt to the cross but not my identity, I am exercising my will to hang on to identifying myself with the old man/sin nature instead of identifying myself with Christ. In both cases I am exercising my will in disagreement with God’s truth. To truly forgive myself, I must exercise my will to enter into agreement with God’s valuation of Jesus’ blood on the cross for me and God’s identification of me with Christ in his death and resurrection. What might it look like to exercise your will in this way?  Pray something like this right now:

Heavenly Father, today I choose to agree with you about the sufficiency of Jesus’ blood. I agree with you that Jesus’ righteousness is perfect in every way and that my status before you is solely based upon your examination of Jesus’ righteousness imputed to me on the basis of faith alone. You are not examining my righteousness so neither will I. I also choose to not only bring my guilt to the cross. Today I choose to bring who I am to the cross. Thank you that when Jesus died, my old sinful nature died too. Thank you that in Christ, I am a brand new kind of person. Thank you that you’ve given me a new nature, your nature. In Jesus name, Amen.

The disciples asked Jesus to teach them to pray. What follows inverses 2-13 is Jesus’ answer to that request. His response comes in four parts.

1. The Model Prayer (vs 2-4)
2. The Impudent Friend (vs 5-8)
3. Ask, Seek, Knock (vs 9-10)
4. The Goodness of the Father (vs 11-13)

While much could be said, and certainly has been said, about each of these sections, I want to focus upon a theme Jesus introduces in the hypothetical story about The Impudent Friend (vs 5-8) that carries over into the next section about asking, seeking, and knocking. Here is the story:

“And he said to them, “Which of you who has a friend will go to him at midnight and say to him, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves, for a friend of mine has arrived on a journey, and I have nothing to set before him’; and he will answer from within, ‘Do not bother me; the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed. I cannot get up and give you anything’? I tell you, though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, yet because of his impudence he will rise and give him whatever he needs. ” (Luke 11:5–8, ESV)

It is important that we keep the context in mind. Jesus is answering the disciples request that he teach them to pray. This story is a direct answer to that inquiry. Jesus is telling us, through this story, something extremely important about prayer.

I love the raw honesty portrayed in this tale. For, if we are truly honest, this story tells us exactly what the experience of prayer often feels like. When we first begin to pray, we sometimes experience what seems to be resistance. In the story, the neighbor tells us to go away. It’s late. His kids are asleep. He is busy and other things are more important than us. It is important to note that in this story, Jesus is not telling us what God is like. He is telling us what prayer is like. His point isn’t that God is too busy and can’t be bothered with our request. His point is that when we begin to pray, we feel like this is the case. This story first describes what we commonly experience when we pray. He then tell us that the key to effective prayer is to press through this initial feeling of resistance.

In the story, the neighbor is our friend. But Jesus overtly makes the point that this friendship alone is insufficient for prayer to be successful. Jesus says that the friendship is not the basis for the answered request. According to Jesus, “impudence” is the reason the prayer is answered. What is impudence?

Webster defines “impudent” as “marked by contemptuous or cocky boldness or disregard of others, insolent.” The root meaning of the English word means “shameless”. Obviously, the New Testament wasn’t written in English. So let’s investigate to see if the Greek might give us additional insight. The following definition is from The Complete Word Study Dictionary, New Testament edited by Spiros Zodhiates, Th.D.

335. anaídeia; gen. anaideías, fem. noun from anaid?s (n.f.), impudent, which is from the priv. a (1), without, and aidos (127), shame. Recklessness, audacity, shamelessness, insolence. Recklessness or disregard of consideration by the one making the request.

As in the English and Latin, the Greek word used here also carries the literal meaning of “shameless”. Is it possible that Jesus is saying that the key to effective prayer is to pray with a contemptuous, cocky boldness, along with insolence, recklessness, shamelessness, and a complete disregard of consideration? Yes. That is precisely what the text of scripture says.

If this kind of praying is, according to Jesus, the key to answered prayer, is it possible that we lack answers to prayer simply because we refuse to pray in this manner?

Again, let me clarify. I do not believe Jesus is telling us what God is like. The point here isn’t that God is reluctant to respond to us. We are not being asked to wear God out through sheer annoyance until he finally gives in. The purpose of impudence in prayer is not to convince a reluctant God. Jesus isn’t describing what God is like. He is describing what prayer is like. When we pray, we initially experience resistance. It feels hard. God seems far away and reluctant sometimes (though he isn’t). Impudence is what is necessary to overcome this experience of resistance. Only with a bold, persistant disregard for this initial experience of resistance are we able to press beyond it.

In the following section Jesus talks about asking, seeking, and knocking, with the promise of receiving, finding, and opening as the guaranteed result. In this section I want to point out that the relevant verb tense in these verses implies continual action. We are to ask and keep on asking. How are we to ask? How are we to seek? How are we to knock? With boldness. Without shame. With persistence. With total disregard to any feeling of resistance, inappropriateness, or doubt.  With impudence!!!

If prayer often feels like an exercise in pushing through strong resistence, and if an attitude of impudence is what is required to push through this feeling of resistance and rebuff, then what is on the other side of our bold persistance that makes all this effort worthwhile? Jesus’ answer: a good Father.

“What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead of a fish give him a serpent; or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” ” (Luke 11:11–13, ESV)

Do you want to experience your good heavenly Father who delights to give good gifts to his children? To get there you might have to press past the experiential difficulties that often accompany prayer. You will initially feel resisted. You will feel rebuffed. This is what prayer is like. But do not give up. Ask more, keep seeking, knock louder, not because God is reluctant, hiding, or deaf, but because you are so convinced that he is eager, present, and responsive that you won’t allow anything but your confidence in his goodness to deter you.

This class on the topic of divine foreknowledge briefly surveyed the Reformed, Arminian, and Open views, and the related issues of God’s sovereignty, Man’s free will, God’s relationship to time, and the nature of the future events God foreknows. I enjoyed preparing for this class and thoroughly enjoyed teaching it. As I had opportunity to read varying perspectives, one of the things that struck me most was how CERTAIN everyone is that their view is the right view.

Don’t get me wrong. I have an opinion (moderate calvinism as defined by guys like Norman Geisler), but I’m not certain. I could be wrong. The other guys may be right. They certainly make strong biblical case for their positions, and they all have pretty compelling arguments for why my reading of key and relevant passages is incorrect. My studies have brought me to a place of increasing humility about such things.

While I disagree with John Piper about how God exercises his sovereignty, I recognize the beauty, elegance and strength of his scriptural argument for a God who works all things according to the counsel of his will. Though I disagree with Greg Boyd about God’s relationship to time, I recognize that we are both likely trying to define something that’s above our pay grade.

I think I am less and less impressed with that thing in me that constantly insists on being right. There’s a place for debate and lively discussion, but I sometimes notice in myself a pressing need to defend my rightness beyond reason and in a manner that can completely bias my reading of scripture.

When I fall into this trap, I tend to bring what I am already certain of to my reading of scripture where my predefined views work like a contact lens over my mind. This lens bends, shapes, and distorts what I see to ensure I don’t see anything new, learn anything new, or have any of the things I’m already right about challenged or stretched.

For instance, this bias of certainty can really impact how I might interpret the following passages:

“But I know that the king of Egypt will not let you go unless compelled by a mighty hand. So I will stretch out my hand and strike Egypt with all the wonders that I will do in it; after that he will let you go. ” (Exodus 3:19–20, ESV)

“And the Lord said to Moses, “See, I have made you like God to Pharaoh, and your brother Aaron shall be your prophet. You shall speak all that I command you, and your brother Aaron shall tell Pharaoh to let the people of Israel go out of his land. But I will harden Pharaoh’s heart, and though I multiply my signs and wonders in the land of Egypt, ” (Exodus 7:1–3, ESV)

In Exodus 3 it appears that Pharaoh’s heart is already hard. God’s power will serve to soften Pharaoh’s heart so he will let Israel go. In Exodus 7 it appears that Pharaoh’s heart is soft. God’s power will serve to harden Pharaoh’s heart so that God has the maximum opportunity to display his own power against Pharaoh. Then he will let Israel go.

Those that gravitate toward a theology in which God controls everything will likely see both passages through the grid of Exodus 7, and will find a way to explain away Exodus 3. Those that gravitate toward a theology in which man has genuine freedom (as a gift from God) will likely see both passages through the grid of Exodus 3, and will find a way to explain away Exodus 7.

Some will attempt to reconcile these passages and will likely come to the conclusion that: 1) Pharaoh’s heart was already hard,  2) God’s displayed power served to eventually soften Pharaoh’s heart, and 3) all God had to do to harden Pharaoh’s heart again was remove his own pressure and allow Pharaoh’s heart to return to its default setting.

I tend to think the third option is right. But I’m not certain.

As a child I struggled a great deal with fear and terror. A horror movie I should never have watched provided an open door for me to fall into this very trap. The enemy whispered “Alan, you’re not safe alone.” I agreed. From that point forward for a period of several years, whenver I was alone I would experience crushing waves of panic and terror. How to stay safe? Never be alone. Stay busy if at all possible – always with friends, always at church, or at school activities. I learned to say yes to everything. Why? To protect myself. If alone, at least turn on the TV, the radio, something, anything to at least give me the illusion of not being alone. The enemy became my source of truth. I became my source of safety.

The genius of our enemy’s strategy is that it preys powerfully upon a core need we all share – security. Something painful occurs and he siezes the opportunity to point out that this event proves there is no safety in our circumstances. He then nudges us toward the “logical” conclusion that since there is not safety in our circumstances, we had better take matters into our own hands. Become your own source of security. Build walls. Get defensive. Get passive. Get angry. Or at least medicate to numb the pain. Drugs, alcohol, food, work, ministry…any of these will do the trick.

The insidiousness of the enemy’s strategy is in his logic. If an argument’s assumptions are valid and the argument itself is logical, then the conclusion has merit. The enemy’s argument has very strong logic. But what about the assumptions? This is where he gets really sneaky. The overt assumption is that circumstances are a very poor source of security. This is a valid assumption. The logical argument from this assumption is quite effective. But there’s a covert assumption, one that is unspoken but very present, on which his logic depends. It is an assumption that if made overt, if articuled with clarity, will cause his entire strategy to crumble to the ground. It is the assumption that my only options for security are either my circumstances or my self. By pointing out that my circumstances are not safe, and assuming that circumstances and self are my only options, he leads me down the path of self protection and self medication.

Ministry we receive can be ineffective if this reality is not dealt with intentionally. We might often have an opportunity to identify and renounce the overt lie. But because the covert lie remains intact, the activation of our will falls flat. Why? Because the overt lie isn’t a lie at all if the assumptions are true. If the enemy’s lie is “You are not safe in your circumstances”, then saying back “Oh yes I am” is no good at all. Our heart knows it just isn’t true. The covert lie must be identified and renounced. It’s not just “I am too safe alone.” It’s: “Today I choose to renounce the lie that I can ever find safety in circumstances or self. Today I choose to surrender fully to you God, the only true source of security that exists.”

There’s a third option. There’s a good, near, and powerful God who can and will be my source of security regardless of what’s happening in my circumstances, regardless of what is done to me. This is the reality the enemy never points out but knows to be true. The big lie is the one he doesn’t articulate. The big lie is the assumed one. The big lie is that my only options are circumstances or self. When I believe the lie and exercise my will accordingly, he succeeds in building increasingly high barriers in my heart and mind that stand in the way of me ever truly turning to the only source of security that exists, God himself.

There is no way out of the fear trap that doesn’t include turning to God as my source of truth AND as my source of security. This is the heart of repentance. This brings me to the kind of truth that sets captives free.

It’s about responsibility. Specifically – who is responsible for who and what? If this piece is not right little else will matter. Since Adam & Eve people have been getting this one wrong. Adam blamed God and Eve for his choices. Eve blamed the devil. I blame the guy who cut me off in traffic for my anger. You blame your unhappiness on your boss, your job, your spouse, your kids, your dad, your mom…

I’m not ok and it’s not my fault. This is the filter through which most people judge things. What if it’s a totally wrong assumption?

This one wrong assumption about reality has an unbelievable ripple effect. If I’m not responsible for how I’m doing and others are responsible, then it follows that others must have control over my inner reality.

“He makes me so mad!” is a common expression of this assumption. If others have control over my inner world then this implies one person can control another. If others are controlling me then it follows that to some extent I can control them. This is why blame always leads to control. We seek to control those who we hold responsible for our pain in an effort to reduce pain and avoid responsibility.

That’s the big one. Who exactly is responsible for my internal world? If I’m unhappy then who is to blame? Others who make decisions that “make me” feel this or that are to blame. To correct this I seek to control their decisions. Or, I hold myself responsible for their decisions. Specifically I hold myself responsible to make sure justice is done and things are made right concerning their decisions. I do this with my anger, resentment, passive-aggression, or any of a number of other methods we all know.

They are responsible for my pain.

I am responsible for their decisions.

This is the problem.

When I forgive I choose to release my sense of responsibility for justice concerning their decisions. Their decisions are their own – between them and God. At the same time I choose to release them from responsibility for my pain. My pain is my own. They are not my source of peace, joy, contentment, satisfaction, love, value or anything else. If they are not my source, then they are not in control of my inner world. If they are not my source then they cannot cut off my supply. No matter what they do.

If I’m not ok, I have no one to blame. But God is my source, so I’m not left alone. I have a place I can bring my pain, receive healing, and a fresh supply of all those things that can only come from Him. But it has to be my pain I bring Him. I can’t bring him the pain I hold everyone else responsible for. I can’t have Him for a source if my blame of others proves that in fact they’re my source instead of Him.

Blame and control are killers. Taking responsibility for my own inner reality makes blame and control nonsensical. When I take responsibility for my inner world I take my place as the rightful delegated steward of that which God has given me. When I’m rightly aligned with God’s delegated stewardship I can receive from Him all that is needed to maintain peace and joy regardless of circumstances or the choices of others.

Apart from forgiveness I abdicate my responsibility and perpetuate the cycle of blame and control ongoing since Adam and Eve. I’m tired of living that way. You?

Everyone has difficulty in their past. There are no exceptions to this, only varying degrees of difficulty. Many are presently convinced that they are currently not experiencing the freedom Christ has provided because of the events in their past. This is simply not true.

John 8:32
32 and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”(ESV)

Freedom is a result of knowing the truth. The clear implication is that the absence of freedom is a result of knowing something untrue. It is the lies we believe that hold us in bondage, not the past events of our lies. These two are connected however, for often we came to believe the lies that we believe during the difficult moments of our past. Hard things happen and we assign meaning to those events. We experience grief and loss and in moments of pain embrace a definition of reality that at the time seems to make sense of them. This means that I am…This means that God is…This means men are…This means authority figures are…

We hurt and in our hurt we decide things about ourselves, about God, about others. And very often the reality we adopt is incongruent with reality as God sees it. One of us is wrong. I bet it’s not God. So God heals memories not by erasing the past but rather by freeing us from the deception we embraced in the past. You are not in bondage because of what you experienced. You are in bondage because what you came to believe about reality is a lie. Freedom doesn’t erase the past. Freedom redefines what the past means about God’s goodness, nearness, and power. Freedom redefines what the past means about your value and identity. When you experience the Truth, freedom is the result.

The first question “Am I loved?” is the key question during childhood. The second question “Do I have what it takes?” emerges during adolescence. A fathers role in determining how these questions are answered cannot be overstated. Acceptance and Competence are at the heart of a man’s identity and fathers are designed to impart identity as a man to his sons. When acceptance and competence are not imparted to a man in childhood and adolescence by a present and fully engaged father, rejection and inadequacy grow in the heart of a young man’s sense of self.

Man was made for intimacy – intimacy with God, with a wife, with family, with others. Of course there are levels of intimacy appropriate in each context. Intimacy always makes a demand on a man. Intimacy requires risk. Intimacy requires a man to be fully present and engaged. Intimacy excludes passivity and fear. Though a man is made for intimacy, intimacy requires strength. Strength comes from identity. Identity is all about a firm sense of acceptance that is not performance based and a sense of competence proven in the company of other men, especially a father. When instead of acceptance and competence a man’s identity becomes defined by rejection and inadequacy he has no strength to give. Intimacy is not an option. Intimacy is what he fears. If intimacy demands strength then strength is the one thing a man marked by rejection and inadequacy is convinved he lacks.

But a man still needs intimacy. In a healthy experience of life a man will emerge into adulthood convinced he is both accepted and competent. He will then bring this identity based strength to his marriage and offer his wife the strength imparted to him by his father. His wife will respond to him with respect and love in a life of genuine intimacy. This experience will reinforce his sense of acceptance and competence as a man.

When a man’s identity is distorted through rejection and inadequacy, he brings weakness to the marriage instead of strength. Instead of genuine intimacy, he is unable to fully engage. The wife then is unable to reflect his strength back to him with honor and love. Marriage then can serve to reinforce his rejection and incompetence as a man. A wife will often simply reflect back to the man the identity he brings to the marriage. My friend Bob Hamp says this is exactly what she is designed to do. She is a suitable helper.

When a man whose identity is marked by rejection and inadequacy lives in the fear of intimacy he will still look to get his need for intimacy met. He will still look for something that will make him feel, if even for a moment, accepted and competent. Genuine intimacy with the Father is the only place a man can find and sustain this. Genuine intimacy with a woman is the place this can be supported and reinforced. But genuine intimacy is the thing he fears the most. It demands too much. It exposes his sense of rejection and incompetence. So a man looks for the illusion of intimacy. He looks for the illusion of acceptance and competence.

Pornography and lust provide this illusion of acceptance and competence in the form of digital images. Affairs provide this in the arms of one who accepts and affirms without the demands that come from actually sharing a life together. Isn’t it amazing how once a man leaves his wife for the other woman, that second relationship simply becomes another version of the first? Once the new woman moves from being simply the illusion of intimacy to the reality, once she is no longer simply the greener grass on the other side of the fense and she becomes the field a man must live in, the new woman becomes another opportunity for genuine intimacy, the thing he fears the most.

All of this is rooted in fatherlessness. The answer is not in accountability for men that modifies their behaviors. The answer isn’t in teaching men the techniques and skills of genuine intimacy of body, soul and spirit. The answer isn’t to tell men to try harder and do better. The answer is for men to experience the reality of a Heavenly Father who alone is able to impart true manhood and thereby freedom from the fear of intimacy, freeing them to invest their strength born in true acceptance and proven competence as men in the experience of genuine intimacy.

God has made us three part beings: body, soul, and spirit. Our body is the physical house in which we live. Our soul is comprised of our mind, emotions, and will. The soul may seem more abstract than the body, yet it is deeply integrated with our physiology. The intellect, emotions, and volition are all part of the amazing functionality of the human brain.

The human spirit is perhaps the most difficult part of us to define. My spirit is me – me at a deeper level than what I think, feel, and want. Thinking, feeling, and wanting are all things I do. There must be a me doing those things. Thinking, feeling and wanting are all experiences. There is an underlying me experiencing these experiences. My spirit is the deepest part of who I am.

I believe the human spirit is also functional. God is a Spirit and we were designed to be one with Him. We were designed to be connected to God as our source of life and identity. My spirit is my capacity to be joined to God. In this sense, the human spirit is like an electrical plug designed to connect to an external source of power and thereby receive what is needed to fulfill purpose. I was made to live by His life. Spirit to spirit connection with the Almighty is what makes me truly alive. Disconnection with God would truly be death. Disconnected, my spirit would be about as useful as a disconnected electric chord of some appliance in my home. Of course there are other spiritual realities to which humans can choose to connect. Dangerous indeed.

In this marvelous passage from Romans 8 Paul is talking about the role of the Holy Spirit in bringing us into an experience of Sonship. His Spirit talks to our spirit and tells us that we are His sons. We belong. We are connected. We are safe and secure. We are loved and valued for who we are. We are all longing for this kind of connection. We were made for it. A human spirit that doesn’t experientially know this kind of Father to Son connection is what some refer to as an “orphan” spirit, a spirit that is fatherless. I believe the orphan spirit is rampant in our generation.

God wants to heal the orphan spirit. The Holy Spirit wants to talk to your spirit. Picture your spirit like a branch attached to a vine (see John 15), receiving from the vine everything you need. The Holy Spirit wants to impart love to you, belonging, security, identity, provision, and value – everything a good father gives to his children. The only thing that will heal the orphan spirit is the experience of the Father’s love.

He is speaking. Can you hear Him?