Maybe you’ve gone your whole life knowing Jesus. Being raised in the church, you gave your life to Him as a child. Maybe you rebelled against Him at one point in your life. Or maybe you didn’t meet Him for the first time until you were long into your adult years.
No matter your how, when, or why, the seasons come when we need a reminder that we are God’s child.
This week, my dear friend, Cassandra Moton shares with us her story of that very reminder. Cassandra is a Pastor’s wife, beautiful Mama of 3 amazing young ladies, and the Children’s Programming Pastor for Central Christian Church here in Arizona. She is a friend I always know I can go to for sound wisdom and just the right encouragement. I am very excited to share her words with you today!
I am God’s Child
I grew up in a non-believing home. It’s not that my family was against God. My family just believed in nothing.
Which is super strange, because we did go to Christmas Mass every year when I was little. Not sure why we went. Nothing was in English. I had no idea what was ever going on – we just kept standing up then sitting back down again.
At home, we never talked about God or prayed. In fact, it wasn’t until I was an adult and became a believer that I learned who Jesus was. Before then his name was used as a cuss word. That truly was the only time I heard his name growing up.
Despite all of this, as a child, as long as I can remember, I have believed in God.
I remember talking to God as a little girl, reaching out to him when I felt alone or afraid. And I always knew that I was his. That I was special to him.
I once summed up all the courage I could muster and asked my mom if she believed in God. I was in 9th grade and we were driving down the road. It was spring, the snow was melting on the ground and it looked more like mud than snow. I had been thinking about asking my mom for a long time, but always chickened out. I was afraid she was going to tell me there was no such thing as a god. But I did it.
“Mom,” I said, “Do you believe in God?”
My mom almost crashed the car.
This is not the conversation she was expecting with her teenage daughter. She was prepared for sex or drugs … but God? She didn’t hit the car beside us, just swerved enough to keep everyone on their toes.
As she drove, I could see her take a deep breath and stare at the road ahead of her as she gathered her thoughts. “Well, lots of people do believe there is a god or something out there watching over us. Lots of people believe all sorts of things,” she said. I think she thought this was the end of the conversation. “Yes, but do you believe in God?” I persisted. “I don’t know honey, I guess there might be something, a god or something. Just try to be a good person. That’s all we can do,” she answered.
And that was it. That was our one and only conversation about God as I grew up and it confused me. I continued to talk to God, but talked less to my mom.
When I was 22 I became a follower of Jesus. At 24 I married my husband who is a Pastor. The second time I talked to my mom about God was when I had to explain to her I was dating Jon, who was studying to be a Pastor. I think she still would have rather talked about sex and drugs.
Here is the truth. I have always believed that I am God’s child.
Not only am I his child, but I am special to him. However, there have been times when this truth, this belief has completely left me.[bctt tweet=”Has the truth that you are special to God left you? #Godschild #ChosenandWorthy #hope” username=”lori_schumaker”]
Jon and I had been married for several years and had two beautiful children. We were done having kids and had even finally given away all of our baby clothes, toys, car seats – everything. We were done.
But God wasn’t.
Much to my dismay, we were pregnant. And I was mad. Not just a little mad – but really angry. I had just got as close as I would ever get to my pre-baby body, I had just begun to work full-time (and was loving it), I was sleeping through the night, going on dates with my husband, and my girls could entertain themselves at home or on car long car rides. Life was great!
Having another child was in no way on my list of things to do ever again. And yet I was pregnant. I hated it. Everyone was excited for us – everyone was congratulating us. And I was miserable.
After I told God what I thought of his stupid decision, I stopped talking to God. I didn’t stop believing in God – I just stopped talking to him.[bctt tweet=”Have your circumstances lead you away from God? Maybe you stopped talking to Him? #Godschild #hope #ChosenandWorthy” username=”lori_schumaker”]
Then it all fell apart.
We lost our baby at 14 weeks pregnant. My heart has never broken more than it did at that moment. Devastated, all I wanted to be at that moment was pregnant. All I wanted to do was wind the clock back to the day before when I was pregnant.
And all I could do was cry out to God “Why?”.
Why would God do this to his child?
Was I being punished for being so self-centered?
Did he take my baby because I told him I didn’t want to be pregnant?
Was I no longer his child?
Did he not love me?
Guilt, fear, and self-doubt filled me.[bctt tweet=”Painful circumstances do not mean God doesn’t love you. You are God’s child no matter what #hope #Godschild #ChosenandWorthy” username=”lori_schumaker”]
Then about 4 days later, I was driving my car. It was a beautiful spring day, the sun was shining, the flowers were blooming and I was miserable. But my girls were in the back seat having a conversation that caused me to almost crash our car.
“What kind of crib do you think Jesus has for our baby? What did God name our baby? What kind of baby toys does Jesus have? I think Jesus loves our baby!”
Tears of joy and happiness were streaming down my face. My girls knew God and Jesus. They had no doubt that Jesus was taking care of their little brother. They had no doubt that he was God’s child.
And in that moment they reminded me of what I’ve always known but had forgotten. I am God’s child. He loves me.
We live in a broken world full of brokenness. God didn’t take away my baby to punish me. He loves me. Six weeks later I was pregnant with our beautiful girl Taylynn. Do not ever let anyone tell you that you are not God’s child – that is nothing but lies. Remember the truth always.
You are God’s child.[bctt tweet=”Repeat after me … I am God’s child! #ChosenandWorthy #hope” username=”lori_schumaker”]
For those who are led by the Spirit of God are the children of God. The Spirit you received does not make you slaves so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him, we cry, “Abba, Father.” The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory. -Romans 8:14-17
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