At church this morning I was thinking about how crazy it is that God loves us and is always faithful, even though we have absolutely nothing to offer him.  Then this afternoon I was reading Francis Chan’s Forgotten God and he says this about the Holy Spirit:

“Through the Spirit we have received a spirit of adoption as children, which leads us into intimacy with the Father, instead of a relationship based on fear and slavery.  The Spirit bears witness to us that we are His children.”

As I thought about that, a story popped into my head.  Inspiration doesn’t strike me very often, so I’ve learned to act fast when it does, so I put the book down and wrote this.  Enjoy.  Also, someone give it a title; I stink at titling things.

Once upon a time, there was an ordinary little girl.  The only thing remarkable about the girl was that she was an orphan, but even this was not truly remarkable, for she lived in a city full of orphans.  She was just one among many.

To the girl it seemed that all the children were special except her.  Some of them could sing, others could dance.  Some could work with their hands, some could run far and fast, and still others could understand things that flew right over the girl’s head.

Every once in a while visitors would come from other cities to see the orphans.  These visitors wore beautiful clothes and had beautiful faces.  They came in extravagant caravans with servants and banners and animals of every shape and size.  All of the children wanted to leave the city with them, because they were beautiful and had nice things.

Whenever the visitors came to see the children, they would ask them to show what they could do.  “We only want the very best,” they would say.  “Are you the best?  What can you do that would make us want to take you with us?”

And the children would show the visitors the things they could do.  They would sing and dance, they would build things, they would run fast, and they would solve problems to show that they were the best.

Whenever the visitors came to the girl, she tried to think of something she could do for them that would make them take her home.  She would look around at all the other children and then lower her head and answer truthfully, “There is nothing I am the best at.”

One day, a different kind of visitor came to the city.  He did not come with a caravan of servants and banners and animals, but on foot with only a walking stick.  He did not have beautiful clothes or a beautiful face, but the garments he wore were clean and he had kind eyes.

The man slipped into the city and watched the children, but they did not notice him except for the girl.  She watched him walk up to different children and talk to them.  He did not seem to be paying attention only to the most talented and beautiful children, but to anyone who would talk with him.  Many of the children ignored him, but some left what they were doing and began to walk with him.

Without knowing why, the little girl hoped the simple man would come and talk to her.  She tried not to hope – no one had paid any attention to her before and she had nothing to offer him – but she could not help watching him.

After being ignored by a boy who was building a beautiful birdhouse and had no time for talk, the simple man looked straight at the girl and began to walk towards her.  She looked down at the ground and kicked the dirt with her toe.  “Would you like to come home with me?” the man asked, kneeling in front of her.  The girl looked up, surprised.

“But why would you want me?  I cannot sing or dance, I cannot build things or run very fast or solve difficult problems.  There is nothing I can do for you.”

The man smiled, “I know there is nothing you can do for me.  It is something I would like to do for you.  Would you like to come home with me?”

“But why would want to do something for me?” the girl asked, still confused by this man with the kind smile and twinkling eyes.  “I am nothing.”

“You are not nothing, dear one.  You are mine.  This city and everything in it belongs to me, for I made it.  If you come with me, I will take you to my house and you can live with me there.  Would you like to come home with me?” the man asked again, holding out his hand for her to take.

The little girl reached up and took his hand.  “Who are you?” she asked, not quite sure of what she was doing.

“I am the beginning and the end, the creator of the world and the ruler of all things.  You can call me Daddy.”

Romans 8:15-16 – “For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out, ‘Abba! Father!’  The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God.”

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  1. Dad

     /  July 18, 2010

    Great story. And I think you already titled it – “Adoption” is good a name ans any.

    You’re a wonderful writer.

    Matt preached on Psalm 8 today, “What is man that You take thought of him, and the son of man that You care for him? Yet You have made him a little lower than God, and You crown him with glory and majesty! You make him to rule over the works of Your hands; You have put all things under his feet, all sheep and oxen, and also the beasts of the field, the birds of the heavens and the fish of the sea, whatever passes through the paths of the seas.

    O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is Your name in all the earth!

    Ps 8:4-9 – Adoption!

  2. Mom

     /  July 19, 2010

    I love your story too. And also think Adoption is a good name. Or “Chosen” would be fun too. You are the best writer. Keep it up. I really think that God uses your writing to further His Kingdom. Love from Mom.


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