Memoirs of Abiding

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The Child who Wasn’t Becomes Seen

Many stories and movies aim to depict the imagination of the author. What better author than the Holy Spirit? When I think of the new life we have in the Lord, I am often falling short adequately describing it all. In a devotion time months ago I thought of a story picture that helped me see even smallest surface of what this new life looks like. It falls short of the expansiveness of the Biblical narrative. To fully grasp it, we must use His word. But in my imagination this story helped me see the aspect of Redemption, Adoption, and Justification. This falls short on Regeneration and Reconciliation though.

Imagine for a moment, a child. This child is living in a kingdom where the King is revered and where they don’t seem to fit. The child has no family, and have lived on their own, scavenging, stealing, and begging. This child knew some of the laws, for merchants would often scream at them for breaking them, seeking the law enforcement officials. The child had been caught, beaten, shamed, until they had little left in the way of dignity, purpose, or identity. They were simply surviving. Written off by society and the rest of the kingdom, their only thoughts were survival. Each day brought new ways of surviving, though nothing was ever seen as right in the eyes of the law. But then one day things changed.

A royal pronouncement was made. All peoples of the kingdom were to assemble for the King’s pronouncement at the palace court. The child neither knew where that was, nor what a pronouncement was, but curiosity caused them to follow the crowds.

As the child entered the palace, for the first time, a fear gripped them. “I don’t belong here. They will catch me. Others know what I am, what if the guards know? They will surely take me away.” Yet, wonder struck them as the continued to walk. Not paying attention to the crowds or anything, the sheer beauty of the palace, the walls, the windows, the decoration gripped the child. Then the child noticed a voice yelling at them. Another in the crowd whispered for them to get off the royal dais. As the child looked down and realized he was standing on ornate rugs, fit for a king, fear gripped him even more. The fanfare sounded.

The child looked over, as did the rest of the people, at the royal court coming forth. Shame then settled on the child. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He would be beaten, or worse, for standing where he was. But the child’s legs would not move. Their heart raced as people in the crowd angrily pleaded with him to move. The child desperate to leave the palace, but finding their body would not do it. With the royal entourage just paces away the child knew it was too late; looking towards their doom. Presently, one of the party pointed to them. The child recognized looks of others and could read the faces of people, yet this countenance was not anger or malice. The child couldn’t recognize the look, but the man motioned for him to come towards their group. Knowing that this would mean his last breath, his body still frozen, a victim of fear. The man approached, with royal ornament adorning him. He came closer. When he was close enough he could hear those behind him call him the Prince of the House of the Lion.

The Prince walked up to the child, knelt down, and smiled. He nodded and then removed his own ornamental cape, and placed it on the child. As he did this the Royal Chancellor pointed and announced to all present, “Today the child known as Invisibilis, has been welcomed into the Royal Family. His status as a son shall be complete, his name shall now be called Videri.” As he continued the pronouncement, the child hadn’t even recognized the name. Yet memories reclaimed, he realized that his family had called him that once. This couldn’t be real. Yet here was the Prince standing before him. He gave the choice, to receive the robe and follow them back into the palace, or to continue on in this current life.

The gasps of the crowd seemed to match his own thoughts. All he had ever done was break the laws, yet the King and royal family was making him one of them. He had said, “A royal child in both legal status, as well as positionally.” After moments of standing and wondering if this could be real, could it be a dream, a nightmare? Could they all be waiting for the moment in which hope was shown only to take it away by placing him in the stocks for all the crimes he had committed?

Yet, something was different about this. So the child followed the prince back. The King himself embraced the child, though the child’s own clothing was ragged and dirty, yet the royal robe covered it all. The child could not believe it. Nothing he had done earned them this status, yet he was chosen. Later expecting this to only last a moment he found their habits coming back. Survival had been all they knew, so he began finding items of value, or food to take. He was called to a late meal as the sun was setting. Escorted to the dining hall, all waited for the King. He found pieces of food on the ground and quickly grabbed them and ate them. He longed for the pests that must roam the halls for the nutrients they might give him. Desperation for the comfort of the rodent that he had managed to catch sparsely. Yet as his thoughts wandered to the meals of the past, this table was set before them. Elegant plates, meats, bread, vegetables, and fruits the likes the child had never seen, nor dreamed. As the king entered all were seated. The child, realizing their own dirtiness, waited along the wall. The king took notice, asked one of those seated near Him to escort the child to seat close to the king himself.

The child sat and listened to the words of the King. He told him of the life he would have in his Kingdom. Of his son, the Prince. He told him of the palace, and all its wonder. Day by day this continued, as the child assumed it would eventually stop. Yet he kept returning to the king’s table, and hearing the words of the king, and of the prince. Month by month the words, the confirmation, the identity began to stick. The child thought about the king’s words even after the meals. He stayed in the courtyard and pondered their meaning. “If this is true, and it seems so, then I truly am a child of the King.” Yet, it took the words of the king, reminding him daily to reshape his identity. The old memories and hauntings of the past, the starvation, the beatings, the crimes, the hurts, the loss, were still in his mind. Those never went away, but every time the king spoke, or the prince spoke those became less painful, and the old habits of survival became less and less. Until the day came when the child no longer looked at a rodent as their last meal, but as a creature. He no longer looked at an item of value, as a measure of how long he might live, but as a creation of beauty. It wasn’t immediate, but the transformation eventually came.

My brothers and sisters, we are the child. Through no merit or action of our own we were chosen by God. He knew our names, chose us despite all our crimes against his law, and made us legal standing children, co-heirs with Christ. But take note, it wasn’t a quick transition. The child still struggled with those all memories. It wasn’t the child choosing not to do them anymore, but rather the words and confirmation of the King and the Prince that transformed their thoughts. Brothers and sisters, we cannot, in our own strength destroy the habits we learned in the flesh. Our sin nature is dead and gone as Reborn children, but those habits are still present in our flesh. The only way to find them removed is through reading God’s word and understanding who we are, who He is, and understanding this crazy long plan He put into motion to bring us into His Kingdom. His love drove that, not obligation. Don’t think you can change yourself to be better for him. Understand only he can transform you, to be all He called you to be. Surrender to Him and Submit your life to Him and you will see what the Child saw.