"Whose Girl Are You?"
"You are now children of God because you have put your trust in Christ Jesus."
Galatians 3:26 (NLV)
When my firstborn was a toddler, we often began our dinnertime routine with a silly game. "Whose boy are you?" I’d ask my wiggly son as we gathered around the table when Daddy got home.
The answer changed from night to night, but little Luke’s irrepressible delight did not.
Eyes ablaze, he loved to hold us in suspense as he decided his momentary allegiance.
"I’m Daddy’s boy!" he’d sometimes declare, while my husband cheered and I feigned grief.
But on other nights, he’d change his answer. "I’m Mommy’s boy," he’d say with a giggle as my rowdy applause drowned out his daddy’s mock moans.
One evening, God interrupted my thoughts with a question of His own: "Whose girl are you?"
It was a question I hadn’t considered since three short words — "It’s a boy!" — had endowed me with the badge of motherhood. Before my son was born, I’d spent hours dreaming of that moment my teeny progeny would call me Mommy.
As my due date neared, I practiced saying my new name to myself in the mirror, and I wondered if the young woman staring back at me would be everything the name implied … patient and kind, servant-hearted and wise. Whimsical and wonderful and fun. Never once did I consider that a new me wouldn’t instantly emerge with my new name.
In the beginning, I wore my new name like an Olympic ribbon. I immediately fell in love with our 7-pound miracle and set out to prove I was worthy of being called his mommy.
However, as days turned to weeks and weeks spiraled into months, as sleep deprivation mounted and toddler tantrums began, that name began to feel more like a heavy weight than a badge of honor.
By the time my son celebrated his second birthday, we’d added a newborn daughter to the mix, and the name Mommy no longer felt like a shining statement of who I was; instead, it was a glaring reminder of who I wasn’t.
On most days, the me in the mirror felt more sapped than super. The me in the mirror wondered how her soul could feel so empty when her hands were so full. The me in the mirror lay in bed at night, too weary to sleep, worrying if she was messing up her kids or disappointing her husband.
Maybe that’s why God’s probing whisper left me speechless.
"Whose girl are you?"
For most of my life, I’d embraced my identity as God’s daughter. But something happened when I had children of my own.
I became so focused on proving who I was, that I lost sight of Whose I was … I’d forgotten I was still a child of God. Motherhood may alter the dynamics of our days, but it does not change our identity in Christ.
Our key verse reminds us that even when little ones cling to our knees, we have a place on our Father’s lap: "You are now children of God …" (Galatians 3:26).
That night, while my babies slept, I sat with my Bible and read about the day Jesus welcomed the little children into his arms (Matthew 19:13-15). I pictured kids of all sizes and personalities clinging to Jesus’ strong arms. And what struck me most was not what Jesus did in those three verses, but what He didn’t do.
Jesus didn’t require the children to prove their worth before they could climb on His knee. He didn’t sort the ambitious from the lazy, the naughty from the nice. He welcomed them all because they were His.
And so, dear moms, are we.
Our identity doesn’t lie in our badge of motherhood. Our identity lies in our merit as God’s children.
So, next time you’re staring at that mommy in the mirror, listen closely for the whisper of God, "Whose girl are you?"
And whether you’re feeling sapped or super, look that precious mommy in the eye and invite her to become a child again. I am Yours, Lord. I’m Yours.
Father God, show me the way back to Your lap. I want to live like a child again. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
TRUTH FOR TODAY:
Mark 10:14b, " … Jesus (to the disciples): Let the children come to Me, and don’t ever stand in their way, for this is what the kingdom of God is all about." (VOICE)