In Christ
Journey 16 - Making Room
Sometimes receiving God's answer means making room for everything that comes with it.
The papers are signed.
The keys are finally in Daniel's hand.
What began as a practical search for somewhere to live is becoming something much greater—a place with room for Rachel, Ethan, Lily, and, of course, Sadie.
A house is beginning to become a home.
But making room isn't really about bedrooms, boxes, or square footage.
As Daniel helps Ethan settle into his new room, Rachel quietly watches something she has prayed about for a long time beginning to take shape. She doesn't simply want her children to accept the man she marries.
She has asked God for something deeper.
That someday they would call Daniel Dad—and truly mean it from their hearts.
Rachel won't suggest it. Daniel doesn't even know she's prayed it.
She'll leave that answer with God.
Meanwhile, Daniel and Rachel finally realize something else: they've both been waiting for the other person to move forward with marriage.
The question was never really if.
Now it's simply...
When?
Scripture for the Journey
Psalm 127:1 (NKJV)
“Unless the LORD builds the house, They labor in vain who build it; Unless the LORD guards the city, The watchman stays awake in vain.”
The Light to Carry
God isn't merely giving Daniel a house.
He's teaching Daniel to make room in his heart—for a wife, two children, new responsibilities, and a life he never imagined.
Rachel is learning to make room too: to trust, to share responsibility, and to allow Daniel into the family she has guarded so carefully.
And Ethan and Lily are making room in their own way.
A bedroom.
A bicycle in the garage.
Books on a shelf.
A dog stealing a sock. 😄
Little things that carry very large meanings.
Because when the Lord builds the house, He isn't simply putting people under the same roof.
He's building a home.
And sometimes receiving what God has prepared begins by simply...
Making Room.
Listen To Journey 16
In Christ
Journey 16 - Making Room
Daniel had discovered that there were some things nobody could adequately prepare you for.
Getting saved was one of them.
Falling in love was another.
And apparently . . . buying a house belonged on the list.
The real-estate agent slid the last page across the table.
“Sign there, and we're finished.”
Daniel looked at the line.
He had already signed his name so many times that morning it no longer looked like his name.
He glanced at Rachel.
She smiled.
Daniel picked up the pen.
“Anything else I should know before I do this?”
The agent laughed. “It's a little late to get nervous now.”
“That's encouraging.”
Rachel leaned toward him. “Sign the paper, Daniel.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
He signed.
The agent gathered the documents, checked them one last time, and then reached across the desk with a set of keys.
“Congratulations.”
Daniel stared at them.
For several seconds, he didn't move.
Rachel nudged his arm.
“You're supposed to take those.”
“I know.”
“Then take them.”
Daniel finally reached out.
The keys dropped into his palm.
They weren't heavy.
But somehow, they felt like they were.
A few months earlier, Daniel had been sitting alone in an apartment wondering what he was supposed to do with his life.
Now he was holding the keys to a three-bedroom house.
A house he hadn't even been looking for when all of this began.
A house with room for Rachel.
Room for Ethan.
Room for Lily.
And a fenced backyard that Sadie was going to believe had been purchased exclusively for her.
Daniel closed his fingers around the keys.
Quietly, he said, “Thank You, Lord.”
Rachel heard him.
She didn't say anything.
She just slipped her hand into his.
By Saturday morning, Daniel had discovered another truth.
Owning a house was considerably more exciting before you had to move into it.
“Where does this go?”
Daniel turned.
Ethan was standing beside a box.
“What does it say?”
Ethan looked at the writing.
“Kitchen.”
“Then probably the kitchen.”
Ethan nodded seriously.
“That makes sense.”
He carried it away.
Daniel turned back toward the truck.
“Daniel!”
Lily.
He closed his eyes.
“Yes, Lily?”
“Where does this go?”
He turned around.
She was holding a lamp.
“Your room.”
“I don't want it there.”
“Then why did you bring it?”
“Mom said I had to.”
Rachel walked past carrying another box.
“Because it's her lamp.”
Lily followed her.
“But I don't like it anymore.”
Rachel didn't stop.
“You liked it yesterday.”
“That was at the old house.”
Daniel looked at Ethan.
Ethan looked at Daniel.
Daniel said, “Apparently the lamp didn't survive the move emotionally.”
Ethan grinned.
Then Sadie came racing through the open front door.
“Sadie!”
Daniel dropped what he was carrying and went after her.
She disappeared down the hallway, returned through the living room, slid slightly on the floor, and headed straight back outside.
Lily ran after her.
“She likes it!”
Daniel stopped in the doorway.
Sadie was running circles around the backyard.
“She likes the fence.”
“She likes the house!”
“She's been inside for twelve seconds.”
“She knows.”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
Rachel shrugged.
“Apparently she knows.”
By lunchtime, boxes covered most of the living room.
Nobody knew where the plates were.
They had found three frying pans, four towels, Daniel's guitar stand, Lily's stuffed animals, Ethan's baseball glove, and something Daniel was fairly certain he had thrown away two years ago.
But no plates.
So, they sat on the floor eating sandwiches from paper towels.
Rachel looked around.
“This is a mess.”
Daniel took another bite.
“It's our mess.”
The words came out before he thought about them.
Rachel looked at him.
Daniel stopped chewing.
Ethan was busy with his sandwich.
Lily was trying to convince Sadie that crust was part of a dog's balanced diet.
But Rachel had heard him.
“Our?”
Daniel swallowed.
“Well . . .”
He looked around the room.
“I know we're not married yet.”
Rachel waited.
“But I didn't buy this place so I could live here alone.”
Her expression softened.
Daniel continued.
“I guess I've stopped thinking of it as my house.”
Rachel looked around again.
Boxes.
Paper towels.
A dog staring hopefully at Lily's sandwich.
Two children sitting on the floor.
And Daniel.
“No,” Rachel said softly. “I don't think it's your house anymore either.”
Later that afternoon, Daniel found Ethan in his bedroom.
He was sitting on the floor beside an unopened box.
Daniel leaned against the doorway.
“You, okay?”
“Yeah.”
Daniel waited.
He was beginning to learn that with Ethan, yeah sometimes meant yes.
And sometimes it meant I'm thinking and I don't know how to say it yet.
Daniel walked in and sat on the floor across from him.
“You want help?”
Ethan shrugged.
Daniel nodded toward the box.
“What is it?”
“Stuff.”
“Excellent. I'm very good with stuff.”
That earned the smallest smile.
Daniel opened the box.
Books.
A few toys.
Some pictures.
Things that mattered to an eight-year-old boy even if they didn't look particularly important to anybody else.
Daniel picked up a baseball.
“Where do you want this?”
Ethan pointed toward a shelf.
Daniel put it there.
They worked quietly for a while.
Finally, Ethan spoke.
“Are we going to live here after you and Mom get married?”
Daniel stopped.
“Yes.”
“All of us?”
Daniel looked at him.
“All of us.”
Ethan nodded.
Then he looked around his room.
“So, this is really mine?”
“It really is. ”
“Even after you get married?”
Daniel understood then.
This wasn't about the bedroom.
It wasn't even about the house.
Daniel set down the book he was holding.
“Ethan, can I tell you something?”
Ethan nodded.
“When I think about marrying your mom, I don't think about getting Rachel and putting up with you and Lily.”
Ethan looked at him.
“You two aren't something that comes along with your mom.”
Daniel searched for the right words.
“You're part of her. And you've become part of my life too.”
Ethan didn't answer.
Daniel didn't push.
“I don't expect you to figure everything out right now. Things are changing. You're allowed to have questions.”
“What if I don't know what to ask?”
“Then don't ask yet.”
Ethan looked at him.
Daniel smiled.
“I'm not going anywhere.”
Something in the boy's face relaxed.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Ethan picked up another book.
“Where does this go?”
Daniel looked at the shelf.
“That's your room. You tell me.”
Ethan thought about it.
“Over there.”
Daniel put it exactly where Ethan wanted it.
Rachel had stopped in the hallway.
She hadn't intended to listen.
She had simply been carrying a box toward Lily's room when she'd heard Daniel speaking.
Now she stood very still.
I'm not going anywhere.
Rachel looked toward Ethan's doorway.
There had been a prayer she had prayed more than once.
A prayer she had never told Daniel about.
It wasn't simply that her children would like the man she married.
That wasn't enough.
She didn't want them forced into a relationship because she had chosen one.
She didn't want a title placed on someone because adults decided it belonged there.
She wanted something only God could produce.
Lord, if this is the man You have for me . . . let my children love him.
And there was one part of the prayer that went even deeper.
Someday, let them call him Dad.
Not because she told them to.
Not because Daniel asked them to.
Not because a wedding ceremony changed what they were supposed to call him.
Let it come from their hearts.
Rachel had prayed it and left it with God.
Now she watched Daniel sitting on Ethan's floor, helping him unpack his books and decide where everything belonged.
Daniel didn't know about the prayer.
Ethan didn't know about the prayer.
And Rachel wasn't going to help God answer it.
If that day ever came, she wanted to know that it was real.
So, she quietly backed away from the doorway and carried the box to Lily's room.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Sadie wants to sleep in here.”
Rachel looked at the dog sprawling across the middle of Lily's floor.
“Did Sadie tell you that?”
“Yes.”
Rachel nodded.
“Of course she did.”
That evening, the children were back home with Rachel.
Daniel remained at the house.
For the first time all day, it was quiet.
Very quiet.
He walked from room to room.
Lily had already arranged several stuffed animals on her bed.
Ethan's baseball sat on the shelf.
Rachel had left a coffee cup on the kitchen counter.
Daniel smiled when he saw it.
Evidence.
That was what the house contained now.
Evidence that his life wasn't just his anymore.
He walked outside.
Sadie followed and immediately began another inspection of the fence.
“You've checked it six times.”
Sadie continued.
“I'm pretty sure it's still there.”
She ignored him.
Daniel sat on the backstep.
The evening air was cooling.
For a few minutes he simply listened.
Then he prayed.
“Lord . . . I don't know how to do all of this.”
Sadie stopped and looked at him.
Daniel scratched behind her ears.
“I know. That's becoming a regular prayer.”
He looked toward the house.
“I know how to work. I know how to pay bills. I'm learning how to follow You.”
He paused.
“But being a husband . . . helping raise children . . .”
He shook his head.
“I don't want to mess this up.”
There was no audible answer.
No dramatic sign.
Just the quiet remembrance of what God had already been teaching him.
Faithfulness.
One step at a time.
Daniel smiled.
“Little things.”
Sadie's tail moved.
“Yes. Including feeding you.”
Her tail moved faster.
“That wasn't a promise.”
A few days later, Rachel and Daniel sat at her kitchen table.
No wedding magazines.
No elaborate plans.
Just a calendar.
Rachel tapped one square.
“That's not going to work.”
“Why?”
“I work.”
Daniel looked at another weekend.
“This one?”
“Church event.”
“Right.”
Another date.
“Ethan has something at school.”
Daniel leaned back.
“Getting married is complicated.”
Rachel smiled.
“Marriage is probably more complicated.”
“That's comforting.”
They sat quietly for a moment.
Then Rachel looked at him.
“Daniel?”
“Yeah?”
“What are we waiting for?”
He looked at her.
She continued.
“We both know.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
Neither of them needed to explain what she meant.
There had never been a proposal.
There hadn't been a moment when Daniel tried to persuade Rachel that God had put them together.
There hadn't been a moment when Rachel tried to convince Daniel either.
God had dealt with each of them separately.
And somehow their separate certainty had brought them to the same table.
Daniel looked at the calendar again.
“I've wondered the same thing.”
Rachel smiled.
“Have you?”
“Yeah.”
“Why didn't you say anything?”
Daniel considered that.
“I was waiting for you.”
“I was waiting for you.”
They stared at each other.
Then Daniel started laughing.
Rachel joined him.
“This could have gone on for years,” she said.
“Apparently.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“So . . . we're getting married.”
Rachel raised an eyebrow.
“We established that quite a while ago.”
“Right.”
He pointed at the calendar.
“So, when?”
And just like that, the question changed.
Not if.
When.
The following Sunday, Pastor Nash saw them looking at the calendar after service.
He walked over.
“What are you two doing?”
Daniel looked up.
“Trying to get married.”
Pastor Nash blinked.
Rachel laughed.
“We're choosing a date.”
“That sounds considerably less alarming.”
Daniel turned the calendar toward him.
“We're discovering everybody has plans.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“Everybody always has plans.”
Rachel asked, “How do you choose?”
Pastor Nash looked at both of them.
“You're asking me?”
“You usually have an answer,” Daniel said.
“That's a dangerous reputation.”
Pastor Nash pulled out a chair.
“Are you asking whether God has one perfect date hidden somewhere and your marriage will be ruined if you miss it?”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
Rachel looked at Daniel.
“Maybe?” Daniel said.
Pastor Nash smiled.
“Sometimes Christians make guidance much harder than it needs to be.”
He pointed toward them.
“Has God given you peace about marrying?”
“Yes,” Rachel said.
Daniel nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Have you prayed?”
“Yes.”
“Are you seeking to honor Him?”
“Yes.”
“Then use the wisdom He's given you.”
Daniel looked at the calendar.
“So, God isn't going to write the date on the wall?”
“I hope not. We just painted.”
Daniel laughed.
Pastor Nash's expression softened.
“God leads His children. But being led by God doesn't mean you're never allowed to make a decision.”
That stayed with Daniel.
Over the next several days, the house slowly became less like Daniel's house and more like a place waiting for a family.
Rachel brought over kitchen things.
Ethan brought his bicycle.
Lily brought approximately half the possessions she owned and announced that the other half would arrive later.
Daniel stared at the growing pile.
“How much stuff does a six-year-old have?”
Rachel walked past him.
“You don't want to know.”
Sadie had claimed a favorite spot near the back door.
Ethan's bike fit in the garage.
Lily had decided where a swing should go.
And Daniel began noticing something.
Making room wasn't primarily about space.
The house had always had enough square footage.
The harder part was making room inside himself.
Room for someone else's schedule.
Someone else's needs.
Someone else's fears.
Room to listen when he would rather fix.
Room to wait when he wanted an answer.
Room for two children who had lived an entire life before he entered it.
And Rachel was making room too.
For years she had carried the responsibility of her children.
Protected them.
Worked for them.
Prayed for them.
Made decisions with them in mind.
Now God was asking her to allow someone else into that protected place.
Not carelessly.
Not blindly.
But faithfully.
And Ethan and Lily were making room in ways nobody could force.
A toothbrush at Daniel's house.
A bicycle in his garage.
Books on a shelf.
A stuffed animal on a bed.
Little things.
But Daniel was learning that little things often carried very large meanings.
One evening, Rachel stood in the kitchen of the new house while Daniel attempted to assemble a small table.
“Attempted” was the correct word.
Rachel held up a leftover screw.
“What's this?”
Daniel didn't look up.
“Extra.”
“The manufacturer included an extra screw?”
“They're thoughtful people.”
Rachel looked at the table.
It leaned slightly.
“Daniel.”
“It's fine.”
She pressed one corner.
The table rocked.
Daniel stared at it.
Rachel handed him the screw.
“Would you like to reconsider your theology of extra parts?”
Daniel took it.
“Yes.”
She laughed.
From the hallway came Lily's voice.
“Mom!”
Rachel called back, “What?”
“Ethan says Sadie can't come in his room!”
Ethan shouted, “She took my sock!”
Daniel looked toward the hallway.
Rachel looked at Daniel.
Daniel said, “Our peaceful Christian home is coming together nicely.”
Rachel laughed.
Then she stopped.
“Our.”
There was that word again.
Daniel heard it too.
This time neither of them corrected it.
Later that evening, Ethan and Lily were inside gathering their things while Daniel stood with Rachel at the front door.
For a moment, neither of them seemed quite ready for the evening to end.
Rachel looked back through the house, then at Daniel.
“We're really doing this,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“House.”
“House.”
“Wedding.”
“Wedding.”
“Kids.”
Daniel smiled.
“Kids.”
“Dog.”
Daniel glanced through the doorway at Sadie.
“Management.”
Rachel laughed.
Then she became quiet.
“Daniel . . .”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you for making room for them.”
He knew immediately who she meant.
He shook his head.
“I don't think of it that way.”
“How do you think of it?”
Daniel looked back into the house.
At Ethan's room.
Lily's room.
The kitchen.
The boxes that still needed unpacking.
Then he looked at Rachel.
“I think God made room in my life for all of you.”
Rachel's eyes filled.
Daniel immediately looked concerned.
“Was that the wrong answer?”
She laughed through the tears.
“No.”
“Good.”
“It was a very good answer.”
Daniel smiled.
He still didn't know about her prayer.
He didn't know that Rachel had asked God for a man her children could someday call Dad—and mean it.
He didn't know that every ordinary moment between him and Ethan and Lily mattered to her in ways she could barely explain.
And Rachel wasn't going to rush the answer.
She would let God write that part.
For now, there were boxes to unpack.
A wedding date to choose.
Children learning what their new life might look like.
A man learning how to become more than he had ever imagined himself being.
And a woman learning that receiving God's answer sometimes required making room for it.
God was building something.
Not simply a house.
A home.
Scripture for the Journey
Psalm 127:1 (NKJV)
“Unless the LORD builds the house,
They labor in vain who build it;
Unless the LORD guards the city,
The watchman stays awake in vain.”
The Light to Carry
Sometimes we ask God to add something to our lives.
A relationship.
A family.
A ministry.
A new beginning.
But when the answer comes, we discover that receiving what God is giving us often requires making room.
Daniel had room in his house.
But God was teaching him to make room in his heart.
Room for Rachel.
Room for Ethan and Lily.
Room for responsibilities he had never carried before.
Room to love without demanding anything in return.
Rachel was making room too.
She had protected and provided for her children for years. Trusting Daniel meant allowing another person into a part of her life she guarded carefully.
And she had prayed a prayer Daniel knew nothing about.
She wanted her children someday to call him Dad.
But not because she told them to.
Not because Daniel expected it.
Not simply because there had been a wedding.
She wanted it to come from their hearts.
Some prayers cannot be manufactured.
They can only be entrusted to God.
So, Rachel would wait.
Daniel would keep loving.
And God would keep working.
Because the Lord wasn't merely providing a house.
He was building a home.
And when the Lord builds the house, even the smallest things, a bedroom, a bicycle in the garage, books on a shelf, a conversation on the floor—can become part of something much greater.
Sometimes receiving God's answer begins by simply...
Making Room.
In Christ
Journey 17 — The Date Is Set
The wedding would be simple. The covenant would not be.
Daniel and Rachel have stopped asking if they will marry. Now, with October 10 circled on the calendar, someday has become a date.
They agree on a simple wedding with family and a few close friends. Rather than spending money on decorations and extravagance, they would rather invest it in the home and family they are building together.
A weekend trip to a larger town to choose their wedding rings gives them something even more valuable—time to talk about the marriage that will follow the wedding.
Both have been married before. Both know what it means for promises to end painfully. But neither wants yesterday to determine tomorrow.
Pastor Nash reminds them:
“Spend more time preparing for your marriage than you spend preparing for your wedding.”
The rings are simple.
The plans are simple.
But the promise they are preparing to make before God is anything but small.
Scripture for the Journey — Ecclesiastes 4:9–10
The Light to Carry:
The wedding is one day. The marriage is the life that follows.
Listen To Journey 17
In Christ
Journey 17 - The Date Is Set
For several days, the calendar had remained on Rachel's kitchen table.
It had been moved for meals.
Moved for homework.
Moved when Lily decided the kitchen table was the proper location for coloring.
But it always came back.
And every time Daniel saw it, he was reminded that he and Rachel had finally stopped asking whether they were going to get married.
Now they needed to decide when.
One evening, Daniel sat across from Rachel while she turned the calendar toward him.
“All right.”
Daniel looked at her.
“That sounds serious.”
“It is.”
She pointed to the calendar.
“We are choosing a date tonight.”
Daniel straightened in his chair.
“Should I pray first?”
“We have prayed.”
“Should I fast?”
Rachel stared at him.
Daniel smiled.
“Calendar it is.”
Rachel ran her finger down the page.
“What about October tenth?”
Daniel looked.
“Saturday.”
“Yes.”
“You're working?”
“No.”
“Church event?”
“No.”
“Ethan?”
“Nothing.”
Daniel nodded.
“Lily?”
Rachel looked up.
“She's six, Daniel.”
“I've learned not to underestimate her schedule.”
Rachel laughed.
Daniel looked at the square again.
October 10.
It was just a date.
Black numbers printed on white paper.
But suddenly it didn't feel like just a date.
“That's not very far away,” he said.
“No.”
“You nervous?”
Rachel thought about it.
“About marrying you?”
“Preferably not.”
She smiled.
“No..”
Daniel waited.
“About everything changing?” she continued. “A little.”
Daniel nodded.
“Me too.”
Rachel looked at him.
“Does that bother you?”
“No.. I think I'd be more concerned if we didn't understand how much is changing.”
Rachel reached across the table and took his hand.
Daniel looked once more at the calendar.
“October tenth?”
“October tenth.”
He picked up a pen.
Then stopped.
“What?”
Daniel looked at her.
“Once I circle this, we're committed.”
Rachel raised an eyebrow.
“I thought we were already committed.”
“Right.”
He circled the date.
“There. Now we're officially committed in ink.”
Rachel laughed.
But both of them stared at the circle.
October 10.
They had a wedding date.
Telling the children went about the way Daniel expected.
Mostly because Lily was involved.
“We picked a day,” Rachel said.
Lily looked up immediately.
“For what?”
Ethan answered before Rachel could.
“The wedding.”
Lily's eyes widened.
“When?”
“October tenth.”
Lily jumped up.
“That's soon!”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
“Apparently she has checked her calendar.”
Lily ignored him.
“What am I wearing?”
Rachel laughed.
“We haven't decided yet.”
“Can I have flowers?”
“We'll see.”
“Can Sadie come?”
Daniel answered immediately.
“No..”
“Why?”
“Because Sadie thinks every gathering is about Sadie.”
Lily considered this.
“She could wear flowers.”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
“Help me.”
Rachel was laughing too hard.
Ethan had remained quiet.
Daniel noticed.
“You okay with October tenth?”
Ethan nodded.
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Then Ethan asked, “Are we moving here right after?”
Rachel answered.
“We'll all live here after Daniel and I are married.”
Ethan looked around the house.
His room was already beginning to look lived in.
His bicycle was in the garage.
Some of his things were already here.
“Okay.”
That was all he said.
But Daniel noticed something.
Ethan hadn't asked whether he would live there.
He had asked when.
A small difference.
But Daniel was learning to notice small things.
A few nights later, Daniel and Rachel sat in the living room discussing the wedding.
Rachel had a notebook.
Daniel had coffee.
Daniel was beginning to suspect the notebook was considerably more dangerous.
Rachel looked at what she had written.
“We need to decide how much we want to do.”
“Simple.”
“I agree.”
“Very simple.”
Rachel nodded.
“We've both been married before.”
Daniel leaned back.
“I think we've both already discovered that spending more money on a wedding doesn't guarantee anything about the marriage.”
Rachel looked at him.
“That's one way to say it.”
“I had another way.”
“I know.”
Daniel smiled.
Rachel continued.
“I don't want a big wedding.”
“Neither do I.”
“A few friends. Family.”
“Pastor Nash.”
“Definitely Pastor Nash.”
“Some flowers?”
“A few.”
“Decorations?”
“Simple.”
Daniel nodded.
“Food?”
Rachel looked at him.
“There should probably be food.”
“I knew there was a reason I wanted to marry you.”
She gave him the look.
Daniel took another drink of coffee.
“Simple food.”
Rachel looked down at the notebook.
“We could spend a lot if we let ourselves.”
Daniel glanced around the house.
There were still things they needed.
Furniture.
Things for the children.
Repairs that weren't urgent but would eventually need attention.
A family didn't stop costing money because there had been a wedding.
“I'd rather put it into the house,” he said.
Rachel looked up.
“So would I.”
That settled something.
They weren't trying to create the wedding everybody else thought they should have.
They were preparing for a marriage.
Daniel pointed at the notebook.
“From now on, whenever we think about spending money, we ask one question.”
Rachel waited.
“House or wedding?”
She smiled.
“House.”
“We haven't even discussed anything yet.”
“House.”
Daniel laughed.
They told Pastor Nash their plan after Wednesday service.
“October tenth,” Rachel said.
Pastor Nash smiled.
“So, you made a decision.”
Daniel nodded.
“And the wall remains unmarked.”
Pastor Nash laughed.
“I appreciate that.”
“We want to keep it simple,” Rachel said. “A few friends and family. Nothing elaborate.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“Good.”
Daniel looked at him.
“That's all you're going to say?”
“What would you like me to say?”
“I don't know. You're the pastor.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“Then I'll say this. Spend more time preparing for your marriage than you spend preparing for your wedding.”
Daniel glanced at Rachel.
“That sounds important.”
“It is.”
Pastor Nash continued.
“A wedding lasts a little while. A covenant is intended to last a lifetime.”
The humor left Daniel's face.
Covenant.
He had heard the word before.
But now it was becoming personal.
Pastor Nash looked at both of them.
“Keep Jesus at the center. Not just of the ceremony. Of the marriage.”
Rachel nodded.
“We will.”
Daniel did too.
There was one thing they couldn't buy in their little town.
Wedding rings.
There were places that sold jewelry, but Rachel wanted enough selection that they could choose something they both liked without settling for whatever happened to be available.
So, they planned a weekend trip to a larger town.
Daniel picked Rachel up Saturday morning.
She climbed into the truck and noticed an overnight bag behind the seat.
“You packed.”
“Yes.”
“For one night.”
“Yes.”
“That bag looks like you're leaving for a week.”
Daniel started the truck.
“I like options.”
Rachel looked at him.
“You brought three shirts, didn't you?”
“Maybe.”
She laughed.
The drive gave them something they hadn't had much of lately.
Time.
No children asking questions.
No boxes.
No cleaning the church.
No house projects.
No calendar sitting between them.
Just the two of them.
They talked about the house.
The children.
Work.
Church.
And eventually, marriage.
Rachel looked out the window.
“Have you thought about what it's going to be like?”
“Being married?”
“Yes.”
Daniel considered it.
“I've thought about what I don't want it to be like.”
Rachel turned toward him.
“Me too.”
Neither needed to explain much.
Both carried history into this marriage.
Both knew what it was like for something that began with promises to end painfully.
But neither wanted their past marriages to become the blueprint for this one.
Daniel said, “I don't want to spend our marriage expecting you to pay for things you didn't do.”
Rachel was quiet.
Then she said, “That's good.”
“I don't want to compare you.”
“Neither do I.”
Daniel kept his eyes on the road.
“And I don't want us to drag yesterday into every disagreement we have tomorrow.”
Rachel smiled slightly.
“We're going to disagree?”
Daniel glanced at her.
“I've met you.”
She slapped his arm lightly.
Daniel laughed.
Then Rachel became serious again.
“We're different people now.”
Daniel understood what she meant.
For Rachel, Christ had already been the center of her life.
For Daniel, everything was new.
But he was not entering this marriage as the same man who had lived his old life.
Jesus had changed that.
“I want us to do this differently,” he said.
Rachel nodded.
“So do I.”
The jewelry store was larger than Daniel expected.
So were the prices.
Daniel looked into the first display case.
“House.”
Rachel laughed.
“You haven't even looked at anything.”
“I looked at the price.”
The woman behind the counter smiled.
“Wedding rings?”
Rachel nodded.
“Yes.”
“Congratulations.”
Daniel smiled.
“Thank you.”
The woman began showing them different styles.
Rachel immediately passed over anything elaborate.
Daniel did the same.
They weren't looking for something that would impress other people.
They wanted something they would be happy wearing every day.
Rachel tried on a simple band.
She turned her hand slightly.
Daniel watched her.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“I like it.”
Rachel looked at it again.
“I do too.”
Daniel smiled.
“Careful. You're three weeks early.”
Rachel stared at him for half a second.
Then she laughed.
The woman behind the counter smiled.
“I haven't heard that one before.”
Daniel looked pleased with himself.
Rachel pointed toward the men's rings.
“His turn.”
Daniel tried several.
One was too wide.
Another felt uncomfortable.
Then the woman handed him a simple band.
He slid it onto his finger.
And something happened.
Not dramatic.
But real.
Daniel stopped joking.
He looked at his hand.
The ring was only there for sizing.
It wasn't his yet.
But for a moment he could see what would soon be there every day.
A wedding band.
Husband.
Rachel noticed the change in his expression.
“What?”
Daniel shook his head.
“Nothing.”
Rachel narrowed her eyes.
“We've discussed this.”
Daniel smiled.
“It just became real for a second.”
She understood.
Rachel looked at the ring on his hand.
“Yeah.”
Daniel took it off and handed it back to the woman.
“That one.”
Rachel smiled.
“That was quick.”
“I know what I want.”
The words hung there for a moment.
Daniel looked at Rachel.
“So do you.”
She smiled.
“So do I.”
They left the store with two small boxes tucked safely into Rachel's purse.
Rachel had insisted they belonged there.
“You lose things,” Rachel said.
“I don't lose things.”
“Where are your sunglasses?”
Daniel reached toward the dashboard.
They weren't there.
Rachel waited.
Daniel checked the console.
Then his shirt pocket.
Rachel continued waiting.
Daniel looked at her.
“This is unrelated.”
Rachel reached into her purse and handed him his sunglasses.
Daniel took them.
“The rings stay with you.”
“I thought so.”
They ate dinner at a small restaurant before going to the hotel.
Nothing fancy.
Daniel had briefly suggested somewhere expensive.
Rachel had asked the question.
“House or wedding?”
Daniel had sighed.
“House.”
So, they found somewhere comfortable and inexpensive.
Halfway through dinner, Rachel said, “I'm glad we're doing it this way.”
“The restaurant?”
“The wedding.”
Daniel nodded.
“Me too.”
“I don't need another big wedding.”
“Neither do I.”
“I want the marriage.”
Daniel set down his fork.
That sentence stayed with him.
Not the wedding.
The marriage.
He thought about Pastor Nash's words.
Spend more time preparing for your marriage than you spend preparing for your wedding.
Daniel reached across the table and took Rachel's hand.
“That's what I want too.”
On the drive home Sunday afternoon, Rachel fell asleep for part of the trip.
Daniel drove quietly.
The ring boxes were still safely in her purse.
He thought about October 10.
A date circled on a calendar.
A simple church ceremony.
Family.
A few friends.
Pastor Nash.
No extravagance.
No attempt to prove anything to anybody.
And Daniel was glad.
Because the more he thought about it, the less important the decorations seemed.
The flowers would eventually wilt.
The food would be eaten.
The chairs would be put away.
The church would be cleaned.
And everyone would go home.
But Daniel and Rachel would leave together.
Husband and wife.
That was the part that mattered.
When they arrived back at Rachel's house, Ethan and Lily wanted to see the rings.
Rachel opened her purse.
Lily was beside her instantly.
“Let me see!”
Rachel opened her box.
Lily's eyes widened.
“It's pretty.”
“Thank you.”
“Can I try it?”
“No..”
“Why?”
“Because it's my wedding ring.”
Lily considered this.
“Can I hold it?”
Rachel looked at Daniel.
Daniel shook his head.
“I'm staying out of this.”
Rachel let Lily hold the box.
“Don't take it out.”
Lily studied the ring.
Then Ethan looked at Daniel.
“Where's yours?”
Rachel handed Daniel the other box.
He opened it.
Ethan looked at the simple band.
“That's it?”
Daniel stared at him.
“Apparently.”
Ethan shrugged.
“It's just a ring.”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
She smiled.
Daniel looked back at Ethan.
“Yeah. It is.”
But later, Daniel thought about that.
Ethan was right.
It was just a ring.
The ring couldn't make Daniel faithful.
It couldn't make him a good husband.
It couldn't make him love Rachel well.
It couldn't make him patient with Ethan and Lily.
It couldn't keep Christ at the center of their home.
It was a symbol.
The covenant was something Daniel would have to live.
Day after day.
Choice after choice.
Prayer after prayer.
That evening, Daniel took the rings home with him.
Rachel had finally trusted him with them after making him promise to put them somewhere safe immediately.
He walked into the bedroom and opened the top drawer of his dresser.
Then reconsidered.
Too obvious.
He opened another drawer.
Stopped.
Then he laughed at himself.
“I'm hiding wedding rings from absolutely nobody.”
He placed the boxes in the top drawer.
Sadie stood in the doorway watching him.
Daniel looked at her.
“No..”
Sadie tilted her head.
“You are not helping.”
He closed the drawer.
Then opened it again.
Two boxes.
Two simple rings.
Nothing extravagant.
Nothing that would make anyone stop and stare.
But in less than three weeks, one would be placed on Rachel's finger.
And one would be placed on his.
Daniel closed the drawer again.
He stood there for a moment.
Then he prayed.
“Lord, help me be more concerned about the promise than the ring.”
He paused.
“Help me love her the way You want me to.”
His thoughts went to Ethan and Lily.
“And help me love those kids well.”
Then he smiled.
“And Lord . . . thank You.”
No long prayer.
He didn't need one.
Scripture for the Journey
Ecclesiastes 4:9–10 (NKJV)
“Two are better than one,
Because they have a good reward for their labor.
For if they fall, one will lift up his companion.”
The Light to Carry
Our world can put tremendous attention on weddings.
The clothes.
The flowers.
The decorations.
The photographs.
The celebration.
And there is nothing wrong with making a wedding day beautiful.
But Daniel and Rachel were beginning to understand something.
The wedding is one day.
The marriage is the life that follows.
They had both been married before.
They both carried memories of things that had gone wrong.
But God wasn't calling them to build their future by staring backward.
He was teaching them to bring what they had learned to Him and allow Christ to become the foundation of something new.
They didn't need an extravagant ceremony.
They needed a strong covenant.
They didn't need expensive rings.
They needed faithful hearts.
They didn't need to impress the people who would attend their wedding.
They needed to honor the God who would be at the center of their marriage.
The flowers would fade.
The food would disappear.
The decorations would come down.
But when everyone else went home, Daniel and Rachel would begin living the promises they had made.
And that is where marriage is really built.
Not only at an altar.
But in kitchens.
In difficult conversations.
In forgiveness.
In prayer.
In raising children.
In paying bills.
In serving one another.
In choosing love when feelings aren't doing the choosing for us.
A wedding ring is a beautiful symbol.
But the ring cannot keep the covenant.
People do that by continuing to choose faithfulness before God.
Daniel and Rachel had chosen the day.
October 10.
The date was set.
The rings were purchased.
The plans were simple.
And now God was preparing them for something much greater than a wedding.
A marriage.
Journey 17
The Date Is Set
In Christ — Journey 18 — The Door Closes
Freedom doesn't require forgetting yesterday. It means yesterday no longer gets to decide tomorrow.
With October 10 approaching, one unfinished part of Rachel's past must finally come to an end.
Her divorce hearing is simple. There is no confrontation and no former husband waiting in the courtroom—only paperwork, a few questions, and a judge making legally final what had already ended long before.
Daniel waits outside.
And when Rachel walks through those courthouse doors, his first concern isn't whether the divorce is final.
It's Rachel.
“You okay?”
Rachel discovers that relief and sadness can exist together. She isn't grieving because she wants to return to the past. She's grieving something that once was supposed to last.
But Rachel and Daniel make an important decision together: the wounds of yesterday will not be allowed to govern their marriage tomorrow.
Later, Ethan and Lily receive reassurance that Daniel and Rachel's future doesn't require them to erase their past.
And Rachel makes another quiet choice.
Forgiveness.
Not excusing what happened.
Not pretending it didn't hurt.
But refusing to carry the debt into the new life God is building.
Scripture for the Journey — Isaiah 43:18–19
The Light to Carry:
One door has closed. But in Christ, an ending does not have to be the end of the story.
Listen To Journey 18
In Christ — Journey 18
The Door Closes
The courthouse envelope had been sitting on Rachel's kitchen counter for three days.
She knew what was inside.
She had known the date was coming.
There was nothing unexpected about it.
Still, every time she walked past the envelope, she noticed it.
Finally, Daniel noticed her noticing it.
He was standing at the sink rinsing two coffee cups when he looked toward the counter.
“Court date?”
Rachel nodded.
“Tuesday morning.”
Daniel dried his hands.
“Do you want me to go with you?”
Rachel didn't answer immediately.
The hearing itself should be simple. The paperwork had already been handled. There was no disagreement left for the court to settle.
Her former husband wasn't expected to be there.
It was simply the final legal step.
“I think so,” she said.
Daniel nodded.
“Okay.”
Rachel picked up the envelope.
“I don't need you to do anything.”
“I know.”
“I can go in by myself.”
“I know.”
She looked at him.
“Then why do you look like you're planning something?”
“I'm planning to drive.”
Rachel smiled.
“I can drive.”
“I know.”
“And then?”
“I'll wait.”
She studied him.
“That's your whole plan?”
Daniel nodded.
“It's a very detailed plan.”
Rachel laughed softly.
Then she looked down at the envelope again.
The smile disappeared.
Daniel noticed.
“You okay?”
“I think so.”
“That didn't sound convincing.”
Rachel sat down at the table.
Daniel took the chair across from her.
“I don't want him back,” she said.
Daniel nodded.
“I know.”
“I haven't wanted that for a long time.”
“I know that too.”
Rachel ran her finger along the edge of the envelope.
“So why does this feel strange?”
Daniel thought before answering.
Maybe a few months earlier he would have tried to fix the feeling.
Now he was learning that not everything needed to be fixed.
Some things simply needed to be heard.
“Maybe because there was a time when you didn't think it would end this way.”
Rachel looked at him.
That was exactly it.
There had been a wedding once.
Promises.
Plans.
Children.
A life she had expected to continue.
Then came the betrayal.
The hurt.
The realization that what she thought she had wasn't what she actually had.
And now a judge was going to put a legal ending on something that had emotionally ended long before.
Rachel whispered, “I never thought I'd be doing this. ”
Daniel didn't say anything.
She looked at him.
“And now I'm getting ready to marry you.”
“That part I like.”
Rachel smiled.
“I thought you might.”
Daniel reached across the table and took her hand.
“You don't have to decide what you're supposed to feel Tuesday.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you're relieved, be relieved. If you're sad, be sad. If you're both, I guess you can be both.”
Rachel looked at him for a moment.
“When did you get so wise?”
Daniel smiled.
“Probably sometime between cleaning the church toilets and buying wedding rings.”
Rachel laughed.
“That explains it.”
Tuesday morning came quickly.
Daniel pulled into Rachel's driveway earlier than necessary.
Rachel came outside carrying her purse and the courthouse envelope.
She opened the passenger door.
“You're early.”
“I know.”
“Nervous?”
“No..”
Rachel looked at him.
Daniel corrected himself.
“A little.”
“Why are you nervous?”
“I don't know.”
“Daniel, you're not getting divorced.”
“I know that.”
Rachel buckled her seat belt.
“Then relax.”
Daniel started the truck.
“Yes, ma'am.”
The drive was quiet.
Not uncomfortable.
Just quiet.
Rachel watched the scenery pass outside her window.
Daniel didn't turn on the radio.
After several miles, Rachel said, “Would you pray with me?”
Daniel reached over and took her hand.
He kept his eyes on the road.
“Lord, thank You for being with Rachel today.”
He paused.
“Give her peace. Help her walk through whatever she needs to walk through, and help me know when to talk and when to keep my mouth shut.”
Rachel smiled.
“That last part may require a miracle.”
Daniel glanced at her.
“I was praying.”
“Sorry.”
Daniel continued.
“Thank You for bringing her through everything that's behind her. And thank You for what You're building ahead of us.”
He squeezed her hand.
“In Jesus' name, amen.”
“Amen.”
Rachel looked out the window again.
She felt calmer.
Not because the past had changed.
It hadn't.
But because she knew she wasn't walking through today alone.
At the courthouse, Daniel walked with Rachel to the entrance.
She stopped before going inside.
“You don't have to sit out here the whole time.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No.. You really don't.”
“I brought coffee.”
Rachel looked at the cup in his hand.
“You already drank half of it.”
“I planned ahead.”
She smiled.
Daniel's expression softened.
“I'll be here.”
Rachel nodded.
Then she walked inside.
Daniel watched until the doors closed behind her.
He returned to the truck.
And waited.
For the first few minutes, he tried reading.
That didn't work.
Then he tried listening to the radio.
That didn't work either.
Finally, he shut everything off.
“Lord, take care of her.”
Then Daniel waited.
Inside, Rachel sat quietly until her case was called.
Everything felt strangely ordinary.
People walked through hallways.
Papers were moved.
Names were called.
A clerk spoke to someone across the room.
Rachel had expected the moment to somehow feel larger.
Instead, it was simply another Tuesday morning at a courthouse.
Her former husband wasn't there.
There was no confrontation.
No argument.
No dramatic final conversation.
The necessary documents were reviewed.
Rachel answered the questions she was asked.
Then the judge made the divorce final.
That was it.
A marriage that had once contained years of Rachel's life was legally over in a matter of minutes.
Rachel stood.
She thanked the court.
Then she walked toward the exit.
Halfway down the hallway, she stopped.
For just a moment.
She wasn't crying.
But she could feel tears close.
Not because she wanted to go backward.
She didn't.
Not because she doubted Daniel.
She didn't.
She was grieving what should have been.
There was a difference.
Rachel closed her eyes.
“Lord . . . I give it to You.”
Nothing dramatic happened.
No sudden feeling.
No voice.
Just a quiet decision.
Then Rachel opened her eyes and continued walking.
Daniel saw her come through the courthouse doors.
He was out of the truck before he realized he'd moved.
Rachel walked toward him.
Daniel searched her face.
He wanted to ask the obvious question.
Instead, he asked the important one.
“You okay?”
Rachel nodded.
Then shook her head slightly.
Then smiled at herself.
“I think so.”
Daniel waited.
Rachel took a breath.
“It's over.”
Daniel didn't smile.
He didn't say good.
He didn't celebrate.
He simply opened his arms.
“Come here.”
Rachel stepped into them.
For several seconds neither said anything.
Then Rachel pulled back.
“I thought I'd just feel relieved.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
She paused.
“And sad.”
Daniel nodded.
“Then I guess you were right.”
“About what?”
“You can be both.”
Daniel smiled.
“I occasionally stumble into wisdom.”
Rachel laughed through the tears that had finally come.
“Don't let it go to your head.”
They stopped for lunch before driving home.
Rachel picked at her food for a few minutes before finally saying what had been turning over in her mind.
“I don't want to bring him into our marriage.”
Daniel looked confused.
“I thought we established that.”
Rachel shook her head.
“Not like that.”
She set down her fork.
“I don't want what happened in my first marriage deciding how I treat you in this one.”
Daniel became quiet.
Rachel continued.
“I don't want to question you because of something he did. I don't want to expect you to hurt me just because I've been hurt before.”
Daniel looked down at the table.
The conversation from their ring-shopping trip came back to him.
He had told Rachel he didn't want them dragging yesterday into every disagreement they had tomorrow.
Now those words were becoming more than a good idea.
They were becoming a choice.
Daniel said, “I need to do the same thing.”
Rachel looked at him.
“I have a past too.”
“I know.”
“I've got things I could carry into this marriage if I'm not careful.”
Rachel reached across the table.
“Then we don't.”
Daniel looked at her hand covering his.
“Probably easier said than done.”
“Probably.”
“We might mess it up sometimes.”
“Probably.”
Daniel smiled.
“You're very encouraging today.”
Rachel smiled back.
“But when we do, we bring it to God. And we talk to each other.”
Daniel nodded.
“No keeping score.”
“No comparisons.”
“No making the other person pay for something somebody else did.”
Rachel squeezed his hand.
“Exactly.”
Daniel looked at her.
“October tenth still good?”
Rachel smiled.
“October tenth is still good.”
That evening, Rachel sat Ethan and Lily down.
Daniel was there too, but he stayed back and let Rachel lead the conversation.
“I went to court today.”
Ethan understood immediately.
Lily didn't.
“Why?”
Rachel smiled gently.
“Remember how I've told you that your dad and I were getting divorced?”
Lily nodded.
“The court finished everything today.”
Lily thought for a moment.
“What's different now?”
Rachel had prepared herself for harder questions.
That one surprised her.
“Not very much for you, sweetheart.”
Lily looked relieved.
“Do I still get my room at Daniel's?”
Daniel tried not to smile.
“Yes,” Rachel said.
Lily looked at Daniel.
“Can Sadie sleep in it?”
“No..”
“Why?”
“Because it's your room.”
“She can share.”
Daniel sighed.
“We'll negotiate later.”
Lily seemed satisfied.
Ethan was quieter.
Rachel turned toward him.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You can ask me anything.”
Ethan thought for a moment.
“Is Dad still our dad?”
Rachel's heart tightened.
She moved closer to him.
“Yes.”
There was no hesitation.
“He will always be your father.”
Ethan nodded.
Daniel remained silent.
This wasn't a moment for him to insert himself.
Rachel continued.
“What's happening between Daniel and me doesn't mean you have to erase anybody from your life.”
Ethan looked toward Daniel.
Daniel gave him a small smile.
“You don't have to figure everything out today.”
Ethan nodded.
Then Lily interrupted.
“Do I have to figure something out?”
Daniel looked at her.
“No..”
“Okay.”
She hopped off the couch.
“I'm going to find Sadie.”
Daniel watched her leave.
“That went well.”
Rachel laughed.
“She's six.”
“I've been warned.”
Ethan stood.
Then he stopped beside Daniel.
“October tenth is still the wedding?”
Daniel nodded.
“October tenth.”
“Okay.”
Ethan walked toward his room.
Rachel watched him go.
Again, it wasn't dramatic.
But she noticed.
He hadn't asked whether the wedding was still happening.
He had asked whether the date was still the same.
Rachel quietly tucked that away in her heart.
She wouldn't push.
She wouldn't manufacture anything.
God knew her prayer.
That was enough.
Later that evening, Daniel and Rachel sat on the front porch.
The children were inside.
Sadie had finally abandoned Lily's room negotiations and was lying near Daniel's feet.
Rachel leaned back in her chair.
“One chapter ended today.”
Daniel looked toward her.
“Yeah.”
“I thought I'd feel different.”
“How?”
“I don't know. Free, maybe.”
“Do you?”
Rachel thought about it.
“Yes.”
Then she looked at him.
“But I think I learned something.”
Daniel waited.
“Being free isn't the same as pretending it never happened.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
Rachel continued.
“It happened. It hurt. There were consequences. But I don't have to live there anymore.”
Daniel reached for her hand.
“No.. You don't.”
Rachel looked through the window toward Ethan and Lily.
“And neither do they.”
Daniel followed her gaze.
For a moment, both were quiet.
Then Rachel said, “I forgive him.”
Daniel turned toward her.
She wasn't saying that what happened was acceptable.
She wasn't denying the betrayal.
She wasn't excusing anything.
She was choosing not to carry the debt in her own heart.
“I don't know if I realized until today that there was still something there,” she said.
Daniel squeezed her hand.
“Do you feel better?”
Rachel smiled.
“I feel lighter.”
Daniel nodded.
“That's better.”
They sat quietly for another moment.
Then Daniel said, “So . . . now what?”
Rachel looked at him.
“You know what's next.”
Daniel smiled.
“October tenth.”
“October tenth.”
From inside the house came Lily's voice.
“Daniel!”
He closed his eyes.
“What?”
“Sadie has my sock!”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
Rachel smiled.
“Your future awaits.”
Daniel stood.
“Apparently.”
He opened the door.
That night, Rachel stood alone in her kitchen.
The courthouse envelope was still on the counter.
She picked it up.
For days, it had seemed to carry so much weight.
Now it was simply paper.
Rachel opened a drawer and placed it inside with the other documents.
Then she closed the drawer.
She stood there with her hand resting on it.
A door had closed today.
Not with anger.
Not with celebration.
Not with pretending the room behind it had never existed.
It had been part of her life.
But it wasn't where God was asking her to live.
Rachel looked toward the calendar.
October 10 was still circled.
The past had a closing date.
And the future had a date too.
Rachel smiled.
“Thank You, Lord.”
Then she turned off the kitchen light and walked away.
Scripture for the Journey
Isaiah 43:18–19 (NKJV)
“Do not remember the former things,
Nor consider the things of old.
Behold, I will do a new thing,
Now it shall spring forth;
Shall you not know it?”
The Light to Carry
Sometimes moving forward requires a door to close.
But closing the door does not mean pretending there was never a room behind it.
Rachel's first marriage had been real.
So was the hurt.
So were the years.
So were Ethan and Lily, precious lives that had come from that part of her story.
God wasn't asking Rachel to erase her past.
He was teaching her that she didn't have to continue living in it.
There is a difference between remembering what happened and allowing what happened to control what comes next.
Old wounds can teach us to expect new people to hurt us.
Past betrayals can make us suspicious of faithfulness when it finally appears.
Fear can convince us that protecting ourselves is the same thing as wisdom.
But in Christ, the past does not have to be the ruler of the future.
Forgiveness does not call wrong things right.
It does not erase consequences.
It does not require us to pretend we were never hurt.
Forgiveness releases the debt from our own hands and entrusts justice to God.
Rachel could not change what had happened.
Daniel could not change his past either.
But together, they could decide that yesterday would not be allowed to sit between them tomorrow.
There would be moments when old memories surfaced.
There would probably be times when one of them reacted from an old wound.
And when that happened, they would need grace.
Grace for each other.
Grace to talk.
Grace to forgive.
Grace to bring it before God and begin again.
The courthouse didn't give Rachel a new life that Tuesday.
Jesus had already begun doing that.
The court simply closed a legal chapter that was finished.
Rachel walked away knowing something she hadn't fully understood before.
Freedom doesn't require forgetting yesterday.
It means yesterday no longer gets to decide tomorrow.
One door had closed.
October 10 was still circled on the calendar.
And Rachel was ready to walk forward.
Because in Christ, an ending does not have to be the end of the story.
Journey 18
The Door Closes
In Christ — Journey 19 — Before the Vows
The wedding was tomorrow. But God had already spent months preparing them for the marriage.
October 10 is only one day away.
The rings are ready. The house is nearly finished. The church is prepared. But Daniel begins to realize that knowing how to get married is very different from knowing how to be a husband.
A conversation with Pastor Nash brings the focus back where it belongs: not on the ceremony, but on service, faithfulness, humility, forgiveness, and keeping Jesus at the center.
Rachel packs the last pieces of her old home while Ethan and Lily continue discovering that Daniel’s house is becoming theirs too.
And in a quiet conversation in the garage, Ethan asks Daniel a question that reaches deeper than either of them expects:
“What if you mess up?”
Daniel doesn’t promise perfection.
He promises something better.
He will keep loving.
Keep learning.
Keep asking God for help.
As the final night arrives, Daniel and Rachel realize how much God has changed since they first met.
Tomorrow they will make vows before God.
But the real marriage will be lived in all the ordinary days that follow.
Scripture for the Journey — Ephesians 5:25
The Light to Carry:
A wedding can be prepared in days. A marriage is built over a lifetime.
Listen To Journey 19
In Christ —
Manuscript Journey 19 — Before the Vows
Daniel had discovered that there was a strange difference between knowing something was coming and realizing it was almost here.
October 10 had been circled on the calendar for weeks.
Now it was only days away.
The house was nearly ready.
The rings were safe.
Rachel’s divorce was final.
The church had been reserved.
There were only a few decorations to finish, a few things to move, and a few details left to settle.
And suddenly, Daniel felt nervous.
Not about marrying Rachel.
About becoming her husband.
He stood in the sanctuary after Wednesday service, coiling a microphone cable while Pastor Nash stacked a few music stands nearby.
Pastor Nash looked over.
“You’re quieter than usual.”
Daniel kept winding the cable.
“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“October tenth?”
Daniel looked up.
“That obvious?”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“You’ve checked the calendar three times tonight.”
Daniel glanced toward the wall calendar.
“I didn’t realize I was doing that.”
“I did.”
Daniel finished the cable and set it aside.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
Daniel leaned against the front pew.
“What makes a good husband?”
Pastor Nash didn’t answer immediately.
Daniel waited.
Finally, Pastor Nash said, “Why are you asking?”
“Because I know how to get married.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“That usually takes about twenty minutes.”
“Exactly.”
Daniel looked down.
“I’m thinking about everything after that.”
Pastor Nash pulled out a chair and sat.
“That’s the better question.”
Daniel sat across from him.
“I don’t want to just be better than I used to be.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“I want to do this God’s way.”
Pastor Nash looked at him for a moment.
“Then start by remembering that marriage is not about getting someone to serve your life.”
Daniel listened.
“It is learning how to lay your life down for someone else.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
Pastor Nash continued.
“Ephesians tells husbands to love their wives as Christ loved the church.”
Daniel said, “He gave Himself for her.”
“Yes.”
Pastor Nash leaned forward.
“That doesn’t mean being weak. It means being willing to put Rachel’s good ahead of your pride.”
Daniel was quiet.
“To listen when you’d rather defend yourself.”
Daniel nodded.
“To admit when you’re wrong.”
Daniel smiled faintly.
“That sounds dangerous.”
“It is.”
Daniel laughed.
Pastor Nash continued.
“To pray for her.”
“To protect the unity of your home.”
“To serve when nobody applauds.”
Daniel glanced toward the cleaning closet.
Pastor Nash noticed.
“Yes. Sometimes it still looks like taking out the trash.”
Daniel smiled.
“Apparently everything comes back to cleaning.”
“More often than you’d think.”
Daniel became serious again.
“What about the kids?”
Pastor Nash’s expression softened.
“Love them.”
Daniel nodded.
“Not because you’re trying to earn a title.”
Daniel looked at him.
“Not because you’re trying to replace anyone.”
Daniel understood.
“Just love them faithfully.”
Daniel thought about Ethan sitting on the floor of his new room.
Lily negotiating sleeping arrangements with Sadie.
The toothbrushes in the bathroom.
The bike near the garage.
The little things that had slowly changed his house into something else.
A home.
Pastor Nash said, “You don’t have to know how to do everything before Saturday.”
“That’s encouraging.”
“You won’t know how to do everything after Saturday either.”
“That’s less encouraging.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“You keep Jesus at the center. You keep learning. You keep serving. You keep forgiving.”
Daniel nodded.
“And when you fail?”
Daniel looked up.
Pastor Nash said, “You don’t run.”
Daniel absorbed that.
“You humble yourself. You make it right. You ask God to help you grow.”
Daniel sat quietly for a moment.
Then he said, “I can do that.”
Pastor Nash shook his head gently.
“Not by yourself.”
Daniel smiled.
“Right.”
Pastor Nash stood.
“That ’s the point.”
Rachel had boxes open across her bedroom floor.
Not many.
Most of the important things had already been moved.
But there were always a few things left until the very end.
Clothes.
Books.
Photographs.
A drawer filled with things she had forgotten she owned.
Lily sat cross-legged on the floor holding a scarf.
“Are you taking this?”
Rachel looked at it.
“I haven’t worn that in years.”
Lily wrapped it around her shoulders.
“So I can have it?”
Rachel smiled.
“Apparently.”
Lily beamed.
Ethan appeared in the doorway.
“Daniel said my bike can stay in the garage.”
Rachel looked at him.
“It already is in the garage.”
“I know.”
“So what changed?”
Ethan shrugged.
“Nothing.”
Rachel smiled.
That was becoming the point.
More and more, Daniel’s house was already beginning to feel normal to them.
Not Daniel’s house.
Home.
Lily held up another item.
“What about this?”
Rachel laughed.
“That goes in the trash.”
Lily looked offended.
“You can’t throw everything away.”
“I’m not.”
“You threw away three things.”
Rachel looked around the room.
“Lily, I’ve packed twelve boxes.”
“That’s a lot.”
“Yes.”
Lily considered it.
“Can Sadie come to the wedding?”
Rachel closed her eyes.
“We have discussed this.”
“But we didn’t decide right.”
“We decided.”
Lily frowned.
“You decided.”
Rachel laughed.
“Yes. That’s generally how parenting works.”
Ethan sat on the edge of the bed.
“Are you nervous?”
Rachel looked at him.
“A little.”
“About marrying Daniel?”
Rachel shook her head.
“No..”
“Then what?”
Rachel sat beside him.
“Everything is changing.”
Ethan looked around at the boxes.
“I guess.”
“But sometimes good changes can still feel big.”
Ethan nodded.
Rachel studied him.
“How are you feeling?”
“Okay.”
“Just okay?”
He shrugged.
Rachel waited.
Then Ethan said, “I like Daniel.”
“I know.”
“He doesn’t treat us like we’re in the way.”
Rachel felt something tighten in her throat.
“No.. He doesn’t.”
Ethan looked toward the hallway.
“He really wants us there.”
“Yes.”
Rachel said it without hesitation.
“He does.”
Ethan nodded.
That seemed to be enough.
Then Lily called from the floor.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“If you marry Daniel, does that mean Sadie is our dog too?”
Rachel looked at Ethan.
Ethan smiled.
Rachel said, “I think you should ask Daniel.”
Lily jumped up.
“I’m calling him.”
Rachel laughed.
“Not right now.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s at church.”
Lily stopped.
“Oh.”
Then she said, “Can I call Pastor Nash?”
“No..”
The next afternoon, Daniel was in the garage tightening a loose shelf when Ethan came in.
“Need help?”
Daniel looked at him.
“With this?”
Ethan nodded.
Daniel handed him a screwdriver.
“Absolutely.”
Ethan held it like he’d just been assigned an important job.
For several minutes, they worked without talking.
Then Ethan asked, “Are you nervous?”
Daniel stopped.
He looked toward Ethan.
“Did your mom send you?”
“No.”
Daniel smiled.
“Then yes.”
“About marrying Mom?”
“No..”
Ethan looked confused.
Daniel sat back on his heels.
“I’m not nervous about wanting to marry your mom.”
“Then what?”
Daniel thought about Pastor Nash’s words.
“About doing a good job after I marry her.”
Ethan frowned.
“A good job?”
“Being a husband.”
Daniel paused.
“And being part of your life and Lily’s.”
Ethan looked at the screwdriver in his hand.
“What if you mess up?”
Daniel smiled a little.
“I probably will.”
Ethan looked surprised.
Daniel continued.
“I’ve already messed up plenty of things in my life.”
“That’s true.”
Daniel stared at him.
Ethan grinned.
Daniel laughed.
“Thank you for the encouragement.”
Ethan shrugged.
Daniel became serious again.
“But when I get something wrong, I’m going to try to make it right.”
Ethan listened.
“I’m going to keep loving your mom.”
Daniel looked at him.
“And I’m going to keep loving you and Lily.”
Ethan stayed quiet.
“And I’m going to keep asking God to help me do it better.”
Ethan nodded slowly.
Then he handed Daniel the screwdriver.
“I think the shelf is crooked.”
Daniel looked at it.
It was.
Daniel sighed.
“Excellent.”
Ethan laughed.
“Maybe you should ask God about shelves too.”
“I’m beginning to think so.”
Friday evening came.
The wedding was the next day.
There had been no rehearsal dinner.
No elaborate gathering.
Just a short rehearsal at the church with Pastor Nash, the children, and the few people who needed to know where to stand.
Lily had asked four times where Sadie would be.
Ethan had reminded her four times that Sadie was staying home.
Rachel had finally said, “If anyone mentions Sadie again, I’m making her the flower girl.”
Lily’s face lit up.
Daniel immediately said, “Nobody mention Sadie.”
Pastor Nash laughed.
The rehearsal took less than an hour.
Simple.
Just as they wanted.
Before everyone left, Pastor Nash gathered Daniel and Rachel near the front of the sanctuary.
“Tomorrow, there will be people here.”
They listened.
“There will be music.”
Daniel nodded.
“Flowers.”
Rachel smiled.
“Pictures.”
Pastor Nash looked at both of them.
“And then all of it will be over.”
Daniel glanced at Rachel.
Pastor Nash continued.
“The church will be empty.”
“The decorations will come down.”
“The food will be gone.”
“And you two will go home married.”
His expression became serious.
“That’s when the real work begins.”
Rachel nodded.
Daniel took her hand.
Pastor Nash said, “Remember what you’re promising.”
“Not perfection.”
“Faithfulness.”
Daniel squeezed Rachel’s hand.
“Not a life without difficulty.”
Rachel looked at him.
“Two people choosing to walk through it together with Christ.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Daniel walked Rachel to her car.
The parking lot was nearly empty.
For a moment, neither opened a door.
Rachel looked toward the church.
“This is the last night I go home without you.”
Daniel smiled.
“I know.”
“That sounds strange.”
“Good strange?”
Rachel looked at him.
“Very good strange.”
Daniel leaned against the truck.
“I was thinking about something.”
“That usually worries me.”
Daniel smiled.
“When I got saved, I thought God was adding something to my life.”
Rachel listened.
“I thought I was finally learning about God the right way.”
He looked toward the church doors.
“I didn’t know He was going to rebuild the whole thing.”
Rachel’s eyes filled.
Daniel continued.
“My house.”
“My priorities.”
“My money.”
“My church.”
He looked at her.
“You.”
Rachel smiled through tears.
“Ethan.”
“Lily.”
Daniel laughed softly.
“Sadie was already there.”
Rachel laughed.
“Yes.”
Daniel became quiet.
“I barely recognize the man who walked into that convenience store.”
Rachel looked at him.
She had no idea what had happened inside Daniel that day.
She didn’t know the words that had come to him when he first saw her.
And Daniel still didn’t tell her.
That story could wait.
He simply said, “God has been good to me.”
Rachel reached for his hand.
“To us.”
Daniel nodded.
“To us.”
That night, Rachel checked on the children before going to bed.
Lily was asleep sideways across the mattress.
Rachel moved a stuffed animal and pulled the blanket over her.
Then she stepped into Ethan’s room.
He was still awake.
“Tomorrow’s the wedding.”
Rachel smiled.
“Yes.”
“You happy?”
“Very.”
Ethan nodded.
Then he asked, “Daniel’s really going to live with us every day?”
Rachel sat beside him.
“We’re all going to live together at the house.”
Ethan smiled faintly.
“Okay.”
Rachel brushed his hair back.
“You can always talk to me about anything.”
“I know.”
She kissed his forehead.
“Goodnight.”
“Night, Mom.”
Rachel walked back into the hallway.
For a moment, she stood between their rooms.
Her prayer came back to her.
Someday, Lord . . .
Let them call him Dad.
Not because she told them to.
Not because Daniel asked them to.
Not because a wedding ceremony changed a title.
From their hearts.
Rachel smiled.
She still wasn’t going to help God answer it.
Tomorrow would come.
And God would continue writing the story.
Across town, Daniel sat alone at the kitchen table.
The house was quiet.
Sadie lay near the back door.
The two ring boxes were on the table in front of him.
Daniel opened one.
Rachel’s ring.
Then the other.
His.
Tomorrow they would wear them.
Daniel closed the boxes.
He thought about Pastor Nash.
About laying his life down.
About listening.
Serving.
Forgiving.
Not running when things became difficult.
Daniel bowed his head.
“Lord . . . help me be the husband You want me to be.”
He paused.
“Help me love Rachel well.”
He thought about Ethan.
Lily.
“Help me love those kids well.”
Sadie lifted her head.
Daniel looked at her.
“And apparently the dog too.”
Sadie lowered her head again.
Daniel smiled.
Then his expression became serious.
“Keep Jesus at the center of our home.”
“Teach me.”
“Correct me when I need it.”
“Help me be faithful.”
Daniel sat quietly.
Then he whispered:
“Thank You for rebuilding my life.”
The house remained still.
Tomorrow there would be voices.
Children.
Rachel.
A family.
Daniel looked around the room.
Months earlier, he had bought a house.
Tomorrow, by God’s grace, he would begin living in a home.
Scripture for the Journey
Ephesians 5:25 (NKJV)
“Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself for her.”
The Light to Carry
A wedding can be prepared in days.
A marriage is built over a lifetime.
Daniel and Rachel had chosen a date.
They had bought rings.
They had prepared a church.
They had moved boxes and made room in a house.
But God had been preparing something deeper.
Their hearts.
Daniel was learning that becoming a husband was not primarily about gaining a wife.
It was learning to give himself.
To listen when pride wanted to defend.
To serve when no one noticed.
To forgive.
To admit when he was wrong.
To stay faithful when life became difficult.
Rachel was learning to trust again.
To receive love without expecting betrayal.
To allow God to build something new without requiring her to erase what had come before.
And Ethan and Lily were learning that this new family was not being built around them.
It was being built with them.
The vows Daniel and Rachel would make tomorrow would only take a few minutes to say.
But living them would require grace every day afterward.
There would be ordinary mornings.
Bills.
Work.
School.
Church.
Dishes.
Disagreements.
Forgiveness.
Prayer.
Laughter.
Tears.
And countless moments nobody would ever photograph.
That is where marriage would really happen.
Not only at the altar.
But in a thousand daily choices to love.
Tomorrow Daniel and Rachel would stand before God and make promises.
But for months, God had already been teaching them how those promises would need to be lived.
The wedding was tomorrow.
The covenant would begin then.
And Christ would remain the foundation underneath it all.
Journey 19 — Before the Vows
In Christ — Journey 20 — The Covenant
The day has finally come. But Daniel and Rachel aren't simply preparing for a wedding. They're entering a covenant before God.
October 10 has arrived.
As Daniel waits for Rachel at the front of the church, he remembers the man he was only months earlier—a man who knew about God but did not truly know Him.
Rachel remembers something different: three assurances that God would someday give her a new husband.
Now, through tears of joy, Daniel and Rachel stand before Pastor Nash and learn what covenant truly means:
Not perfection. Faithfulness.
Not simply, “What will you give me?”
But, “I give myself to you.”
And after the vows are spoken, God answers another prayer Rachel has quietly carried in her heart.
Ethan approaches her with a simple question:
“Mom . . . can I call Daniel Dad now?”
The wedding makes Daniel and Rachel husband and wife.
The adoption is still ahead.
But God has already been building something that paperwork alone could never create.
A family.
Scripture for the Journey — Joshua 24:15
The Light to Carry:
A wedding can happen in a day. A covenant is lived for a lifetime.
Listen To Journey 20
In Christ — Journey 20 — The Covenant
Daniel Walker had been awake for almost an hour before the alarm went off.
He knew this because he had looked at the clock at least six times.
Finally, at six-thirty, he gave up pretending he was going back to sleep.
He sat on the edge of the bed and looked across the room.
His suit was hanging on the closet door.
His shoes were underneath it.
And on the dresser sat a small box containing the ring he would place on Rachel's finger later that day.
October 10.
For weeks, the date had been circled on a calendar.
Now it was here.
Sadie stood in the doorway watching him.
Daniel looked at her.
“Today's the day.”
Sadie tilted her head.
“You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?”
Her tail moved.
Daniel smiled.
“Probably better that way.”
He walked into the kitchen and started coffee.
The house was quiet.
But it wouldn't stay that way.
By tonight, Rachel would be here.
Ethan would be here.
Lily would be here.
Not visiting.
Not bringing over another box.
Not deciding where something belonged.
They would be home.
Daniel poured his coffee and sat at the kitchen table.
Yesterday he had prayed for God to help him become the husband He wanted him to be.
This morning there was nothing more complicated to say.
Daniel bowed his head.
“Lord, I meant what I said last night.”
He paused.
“Help me be faithful.”
He sat quietly for a moment.
Then he smiled.
“And please help me remember the rings.”
Sadie looked at him.
Daniel pointed toward the dresser.
“They're staying right there until I leave.”
Sadie lowered her head.
“Good talk.”
Across town, Rachel stood in front of her bedroom mirror.
For once, there were no boxes on the floor.
Most of them were already at the house.
The few remaining things would go later.
Today wasn't about moving.
Today she was getting married.
Lily appeared behind her.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Are you nervous?”
Rachel smiled at her reflection.
“A little.”
“You said that yesterday.”
“I was nervous yesterday too.”
Lily considered this.
“Are you going to be nervous tomorrow?”
Rachel laughed.
“I hope not.”
Ethan appeared in the doorway.
“Lily, Mom's trying to get ready.”
“I'm helping.”
Ethan looked at Rachel.
“Is she?”
“No.”
Lily frowned.
“I am.”
Rachel turned and pulled her close.
“Yes, sweetheart. You are.”
Lily immediately smiled.
Ethan shook his head.
Rachel turned back toward the mirror.
And for a moment, everything around her seemed to become quiet.
She remembered another season of her life.
A season when marriage had meant disappointment.
Betrayal.
Questions.
Loneliness.
And during that season, before Daniel, before the list she had made, before she had begun looking around church and wondering if God might bring someone into her life, there had been those assurances.
Three different times.
The same promise pressed unmistakably into her heart.
God would give her a new husband.
At the time, she hadn't known who.
She hadn't known when.
She hadn't known how.
Then came the waiting.
The questions.
Joey.
The decision to let that friendship remain what it was.
And then Daniel.
A man she hadn't met at church.
A man younger than her.
A man who knew about God but didn't yet know Him.
A man who came with questions of his own.
Rachel had questioned whether he was the one.
She had questioned the age difference.
She had questioned how he would treat her children.
She had questioned what kind of man he really was.
And God had patiently answered every one.
Now she stood preparing to marry Daniel Walker.
Rachel's eyes filled.
She didn't hear another promise.
She didn't need one.
She whispered,
“Thank You, Lord.”
Lily looked up.
“For what?”
Rachel wiped beneath one eye.
“For being faithful.”
Lily thought for a moment.
Then she smiled.
“Can Sadie still come?”
Rachel stared at her.
Ethan groaned from the doorway.
“Lily!”
“What?”
Rachel started laughing.
“No.. Sadie is staying home.”
Lily sighed.
“She would have looked pretty with flowers.”
Rachel shook her head.
Some things, apparently, were never going to change.
By late morning, the church had begun to fill.
Not with a huge crowd.
That was never what Daniel and Rachel wanted.
Family.
A handful of close friends.
People from church who had watched God work in their lives.
A few simple flowers decorated the sanctuary.
Nothing extravagant.
Nothing designed to impress anyone.
It looked like them.
Simple.
Warm.
Real.
Daniel stood in a small room near the sanctuary.
His jacket was on.
His tie had already been straightened twice.
He looked at himself in the mirror.
For a moment, he hardly recognized the man looking back at him.
Not because of the suit.
Because he remembered the man he had been only months earlier.
Twenty-five years of knowing about God.
Religious.
Familiar with church.
Certain he understood more than he actually did.
Then Jesus had changed everything.
Daniel looked down at the wedding band he would soon wear.
A husband.
The word carried more weight this morning than it ever had before.
There was a knock on the door.
Pastor Nash stepped inside.
“You ready?”
Daniel started to answer quickly.
Then stopped.
“I think so.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“That wasn't very convincing.”
Daniel looked back toward the mirror.
“I want to marry her.”
“I know.”
“There's no question about that.”
“I know that too.”
Daniel was quiet.
“It's everything that comes with it.”
Pastor Nash waited.
Daniel continued.
“Yesterday I was Daniel.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“You'll still be Daniel tomorrow.”
Daniel laughed softly.
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
Daniel looked toward the door.
“Tomorrow I wake up as Rachel's husband.”
He paused.
“And Ethan and Lily are going to wake up in this house knowing I'm not just the man their mom is going to marry someday.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“They're going to be my family.”
“They already are becoming your family.”
Daniel looked at him.
Pastor Nash continued.
“Today you're making a covenant about how you intend to live inside that family.”
Daniel swallowed.
“I don't want to fail them.”
Pastor Nash stepped closer.
“Daniel, you will fail sometimes.”
Daniel looked at him.
“So will Rachel.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“And I suspect Ethan and Lily may occasionally fail to achieve perfection.”
Daniel laughed.
“Lily?”
“Hard to believe.”
Daniel shook his head.
Pastor Nash became serious again.
“The question isn't whether you'll ever fail.”
“It's what you'll do when you do.”
Daniel remembered their conversation from Wednesday.
“You don't run.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“You don't run.”
Daniel took a slow breath.
Pastor Nash placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You love her.”
“Yes.”
“You love those children.”
Daniel didn't hesitate.
“Yes.”
“And you love Jesus.”
Daniel's eyes filled.
“Yes.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“Then go make your promise.”
Daniel nodded.
But before Pastor Nash reached the door, Daniel said,
“Pastor Nash?”
He turned.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
Daniel thought about everything that had happened since he first walked into this church.
The teaching.
The salvation prayer.
The cleaning.
The guitar.
The Wednesday services.
The conversations nobody else heard.
“For not assuming I knew God just because I knew about Him.”
Pastor Nash looked at him for a moment.
Then he said quietly,
“Jesus did the saving, Daniel.”
“I know.”
Daniel smiled.
“But you pointed me toward Him.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“That's all any of us can do.”
Across the church, Rachel stood in another room.
She could hear people arriving.
Muted voices.
Occasional laughter.
Footsteps in the hallway.
Lily had finally been persuaded to stop asking about Sadie.
At least for the moment.
Rachel looked down at her hands.
They were trembling slightly.
She smiled.
After everything God had brought her through, she was nervous about walking through a church door.
But she understood why.
This wasn't simply another wedding.
And Daniel wasn't simply another husband.
Rachel had once stood before God believing a marriage would last.
It hadn't.
There had been days afterward when she wondered whether she would ever trust someone enough to do this again.
Then God had spoken to her heart.
Not once.
Three times.
He would give her a new husband.
Rachel hadn't gone looking for Daniel.
In fact, she had eventually come to believe she wasn't going to find the man God had for her in church.
And she hadn't.
She had met him in a convenience store.
Rachel laughed softly at the thought.
Lily looked up.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Something was funny.”
“I was just thinking about how I met Daniel.”
“At the store.”
“Yes.”
Lily smiled.
“That's not very romantic.”
Rachel laughed.
“No.. I suppose it isn't.”
Ethan was standing nearby.
He looked at his mother.
“You okay?”
Rachel nodded.
Then she changed her answer.
“I'm happy.”
Ethan smiled.
“Really happy.”
Rachel looked at both of her children.
There had been a time when one of her greatest questions about Daniel had been them.
Would he love them?
Would he have patience with them?
Would he understand that marrying Rachel meant they were part of the life he was choosing?
She didn't have to wonder anymore.
She had watched him.
Not for one dramatic moment.
In dozens of ordinary ones.
Watching the children when she worked.
Listening to Ethan.
Laughing with Lily.
Making room in his house.
Making room in his schedule.
Making room in his heart.
Never demanding anything from them in return.
Rachel reached for Ethan's hand.
Then Lily's.
“Do you two know how much I love you?”
Lily nodded immediately.
“A lot.”
Rachel laughed.
“Yes. A lot.”
Ethan smiled.
Rachel looked at them both.
“And Daniel loves you too.”
Ethan nodded.
“I know.”
Those two words nearly broke her.
I know.
Rachel had prayed that her children would know.
Not because she convinced them.
Because Daniel showed them.
She pulled both children close.
For a few seconds, the three of them simply stood together.
Then Lily's muffled voice came from against Rachel.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“I'm squished.”
Rachel laughed through her tears and released them.
A woman from the church appeared at the doorway.
“Rachel, they're ready.”
Rachel's heart jumped.
Ready.
She looked toward the hallway.
This was it.
Ethan and Lily went ahead.
For a moment, Rachel remained alone.
She closed her eyes.
“Lord . . .”
There were a hundred things she could have prayed.
Instead she whispered,
“You kept Your word.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks.
Rachel wiped them away carefully.
“Thank You.”
Then she stepped into the hallway.
At the front of the sanctuary, Daniel stood beside Pastor Nash.
People were still settling into their seats.
Daniel could hear them.
But he wasn't really listening.
He looked toward the closed doors at the back of the sanctuary.
His heart was pounding.
Pastor Nash leaned slightly toward him.
“Breathe.”
“I am breathing.”
“Not very often.”
Daniel smiled nervously.
“I thought pastors were supposed to be encouraging.”
“I am encouraging you to breathe.”
Then the music began.
Daniel looked toward the back.
The doors opened.
And everything else disappeared.
Rachel stood there.
Daniel had seen her hundreds of times.
At the convenience store.
At the company picnic.
At church.
In the house.
At the kitchen table.
Surrounded by boxes.
Laughing with the children.
Praying.
Worshiping.
Crying.
But he had never seen her like this.
Not because of what she was wearing.
Because today she was walking toward him.
Daniel felt his eyes fill.
He didn't try to stop it.
Rachel saw him.
And the moment she did, her own composure disappeared.
She smiled through her tears.
Daniel smiled back.
Neither of them looked away.
Rachel began walking.
With each step, memories seemed to travel the aisle with her.
Daniel asking for her phone number.
The picnic.
His first visit to church.
The day he gave his life to Jesus.
The house.
The doubts God had removed one by one.
The cleaning.
The worship.
The children.
The calendar.
October 10.
And now Daniel Walker stood waiting for her.
Daniel had memories of his own.
The convenience store.
And the words Rachel still knew nothing about.
She's going to be your next wife.
He had carried those words quietly.
He had never used them to persuade her.
Never told Rachel what God had shown him.
Never tried to make them come true.
He had simply watched God work.
Now Rachel was walking toward him by her own choice.
And Daniel understood something he hadn't understood that first day.
God hadn't merely shown him who Rachel would become.
God had first needed to change the man who would become her husband.
Daniel lowered his head for just a second.
“Thank You, Lord.”
Rachel reached the front.
Daniel held out his hand.
She took it.
For several seconds, neither said anything.
They didn't need to.
Pastor Nash waited.
He didn't rush them.
Finally Daniel whispered,
“You're beautiful.”
Rachel smiled.
“So are you.”
Daniel blinked.
Rachel laughed softly.
“You know what I mean.”
“I hope so.”
That broke the tension just enough.
Pastor Nash smiled.
Then Rachel glanced toward Ethan and Lily.
Both were watching.
Lily whispered something to Ethan.
Ethan shook his head.
Lily whispered again.
Ethan finally whispered,
“No.. Sadie could not have done this better.”
Several people nearby laughed.
Rachel covered her mouth.
Daniel looked at Pastor Nash.
Pastor Nash whispered,
“Still breathing?”
Daniel nodded.
“Barely.”
The laughter faded.
Daniel looked at Rachel again.
Rachel squeezed his hand.
Pastor Nash allowed another quiet moment.
Daniel was still looking at Rachel.
Rachel was still looking at Daniel.
Both were already wiping tears from their faces.
Then Pastor Nash stepped forward.
“We are here today to witness something sacred.”
He paused.
“Daniel and Rachel have chosen to enter marriage together.”
“But before they make their vows, I want us to understand what they are doing here today.”
Pastor Nash looked at the couple.
“Marriage, as God designed it, is covenant.”
“A contract is generally built around what each person agrees to do. And when one side fails to keep the agreement, the contract may be considered broken.”
“But covenant reaches deeper.”
“Covenant says, ‘I give myself to you.’”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
Her eyes filled again.
His weren't doing much better.
Pastor Nash continued.
“Daniel and Rachel are not standing here today because they believe they will never disappoint one another.”
“They are not promising a life without mistakes, disagreements, difficulties, or tears.”
Daniel smiled through his own tears.
There had already been plenty of those today.
“They are promising faithfulness.”
“They are choosing before God to love.”
“To forgive.”
“To serve.”
“To pray.”
“To walk together through whatever life brings.”
Rachel squeezed Daniel's hands.
“And at the center of this covenant is not simply Daniel and Rachel.”
Pastor Nash paused.
“Jesus Christ is the foundation of the home they are establishing today.”
That was the sentence that broke what little composure Daniel had left.
He lowered his head.
Rachel saw him wipe his eyes.
And then she started crying harder too.
Not because anything was wrong.
Because everything Pastor Nash was saying represented what God had been doing in their lives.
Months earlier, Daniel had not even known Jesus.
Now he was standing before God preparing to establish a home with Christ as its foundation.
Rachel knew enough of Daniel's journey to understand the miracle of that.
And Daniel knew enough of Rachel's past to understand what it meant for her to stand here and trust again.
Pastor Nash waited.
There was no reason to hurry.
When Daniel finally looked up, Pastor Nash smiled.
“So the vows they are about to make are more than words spoken to one another.”
“They are promises made before God.”
Pastor Nash paused.
“Before Daniel and Rachel make those promises, they have chosen to do something else.”
He turned toward a small table nearby.
On it were the bread and the cup.
“They want to begin their marriage by remembering the covenant that made everything else possible.”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
Rachel squeezed his hand.
Pastor Nash continued.
“Jesus said, ‘This is My body which is given for you; do this in remembrance of Me.’”
He lifted the bread.
“Daniel and Rachel are not beginning this marriage with confidence in their own strength.”
“They are beginning it by remembering Jesus.”
“The One who gave Himself.”
“The One who forgives.”
“The One who restores.”
“The One who will remain the foundation of their home.”
Pastor Nash handed bread to Daniel and Rachel.
For a moment, they simply stood holding it.
Neither spoke.
Daniel’s eyes filled again.
Rachel looked at him and smiled through her tears.
Pastor Nash said quietly,
“Remember what Christ has done for you.”
Together, Daniel and Rachel took the bread.
Pastor Nash lifted the cup.
“Jesus also said, ‘This cup is the new covenant in My blood, which is shed for you.’”
He looked at Daniel and Rachel.
“Before you make a covenant with one another, remember that both of you are already living under a greater covenant.”
“The new covenant established through Jesus Christ.”
“You are not asking marriage to save you.”
“You are not asking one another to become what only Jesus can be.”
“You are coming into marriage as two people who belong first to Him.”
Daniel lowered his head.
Rachel was crying again.
Pastor Nash handed them the cups.
“Remember His grace.”
“Remember His faithfulness.”
“And remember that the strength of this home will not come from two perfect people.”
“It will come from two people continually turning toward a perfect Savior.”
Daniel and Rachel drank.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
There was no hurry.
Daniel reached for Rachel’s hand.
Rachel whispered,
“Thank You, Jesus.”
Daniel quietly answered,
“Amen.”
Pastor Nash allowed the silence to remain.
Then he smiled.
“Now, having remembered the covenant Christ has made with you, you may make your covenant with one another.”
He looked at Daniel.
“Daniel Walker, are you ready to make that promise?”
Daniel tried to answer.
Nothing came out.
Rachel laughed softly through her tears.
Daniel cleared his throat.
“I am.”
Pastor Nash turned to Rachel.
“Rachel, are you ready?”
Rachel nodded.
Then realized she needed to answer.
“I am.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“Then Daniel, you may begin.”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Rachel waited.
Daniel took a breath.
“Rachel, I receive you as God's gift in my life.”
His voice broke on the last few words.
Rachel immediately covered her mouth.
Daniel stopped.
He laughed softly at himself while wiping his eyes.
“I thought I could do this.”
Rachel whispered,
“Me too.”
That brought quiet laughter from the people watching.
Pastor Nash smiled.
“You have all the time you need.”
Daniel nodded.
Then he looked at Rachel again.
“I promise to love you.”
“To honor you.”
“To listen to you.”
“To pray with you.”
“And to remain faithful to you.”
Daniel glanced toward Ethan and Lily.
His eyes filled again.
“I promise to love Ethan and Lily as part of the family God has given me.”
Ethan looked down.
Lily smiled.
Rachel could no longer hold back her tears.
Daniel looked back at her.
“I don't promise that I'll always get everything right.”
Rachel smiled.
“But I promise that when I get something wrong, I'll keep turning to God and keep turning back to you.”
Rachel squeezed his hands.
Daniel took another breath.
“With Jesus Christ as the foundation of our home . . .”
He stopped again.
Rachel waited.
Daniel finally finished.
“I give you my life.”
Rachel was crying openly now.
She took a moment before beginning her vows.
When she finally spoke, her voice trembled.
“Daniel, I receive you as God's answer in my life.”
Daniel closed his eyes for a moment.
Rachel knew exactly what those words meant.
She remembered the assurances God had given her.
The waiting.
The questions.
The doubts.
And the day each doubt had disappeared.
But God.
Now God's answer was standing in front of her.
Rachel continued.
“I promise to love you.”
“To honor you.”
“To pray with you.”
“To encourage you.”
“And to remain faithful to you.”
She glanced toward Ethan and Lily.
“I promise to walk beside you in the life God is building for us.”
Her voice broke.
She stopped and wiped her eyes.
Daniel whispered,
“Take your time.”
Rachel smiled.
Then she continued.
“And I promise that our home will be a place where we keep learning together what it means to follow Jesus.”
She looked directly into Daniel's eyes.
“I don't expect you to be perfect.”
Daniel managed a smile.
“That's helpful.”
Rachel laughed through her tears.
So did several people in the room.
“But I will walk with you as God continues His work in both of us.”
Rachel took a shaky breath.
“With Jesus Christ as the foundation of our home . . .”
Now it was Rachel who had to stop.
Daniel squeezed her hands.
She looked at him.
“I give you my life.”
For a few seconds, nobody said anything.
Pastor Nash let the silence remain.
It wasn't uncomfortable.
It was worshipful.
Two people who had known brokenness were standing before God, not pretending the past had never happened, but trusting Him with everything that came next.
Then Pastor Nash held out his hand for the rings.
Daniel reached into his pocket.
And froze.
Rachel's eyes widened.
Daniel checked the other pocket.
Pastor Nash watched him.
Daniel checked the first pocket again.
Then he smiled and pulled out the rings.
Rachel stared at him.
“You did that on purpose.”
“Maybe.”
Pastor Nash shook his head.
“I was about to encourage you to breathe again.”
The room laughed.
Even Rachel laughed through her tears.
Then Pastor Nash became serious.
“These rings do not make the covenant.”
“They are symbols of the covenant Daniel and Rachel are making before God today.”
“They will remind them that the promises spoken here are meant to be lived long after this day is over.”
Daniel took Rachel's ring.
His hand trembled slightly as he placed it on her finger.
For a moment, he simply looked at it.
Then he looked at her.
Rachel was crying again.
So was he.
Rachel took Daniel's ring and slid it onto his finger.
Her hand remained wrapped around his for a moment after the ring was in place.
Pastor Nash looked at them both.
“Daniel and Rachel, you have made your vows before God and before these witnesses.”
“You have given yourselves to one another in covenant.”
He paused.
“And it is my privilege to pronounce you husband and wife.”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
Rachel looked at Daniel.
Both of them were laughing and crying at the same time.
And for the first time, she was Rachel Walker.
The reception was exactly what they had wanted.
Simple.
Food.
Cake.
Conversation.
Pictures.
Children moving much faster than adults thought necessary.
Daniel had already been asked three times how it felt to be married.
His answer had been the same every time.
“Good.”
Laura finally laughed.
“That's all you've got?”
Daniel smiled.
“I'm still processing.”
Across the room, Rachel was talking with someone when she felt a small tug at her arm.
She looked down.
Ethan stood beside her.
“Mom?”
“Yeah?”
He looked toward Daniel.
Then back at her.
There was something uncertain in his expression.
Rachel excused herself and moved a few steps away with him.
“What is it?”
Ethan hesitated.
Then he asked,
“Mom . . . can I call Daniel Dad now?”
For one second, Rachel couldn't speak.
The noise in the room seemed to disappear.
Her prayer returned.
Someday, Lord . . .
Let them call him Dad.
Not because she told them.
Not because Daniel asked.
Not because a wedding ceremony changed a title.
From their hearts.
Rachel had done nothing.
She had never suggested it.
Never coached him.
Never tried to make the answer happen.
And now Ethan stood in front of her asking the question himself.
Rachel knelt in front of him.
Her eyes filled.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
Ethan looked relieved.
“Okay.”
Rachel smiled through her tears.
“That's all?”
He shrugged.
“I just wanted to know.”
Rachel pulled him into a hug.
“Then yes.”
She whispered it again.
“Yes.”
Ethan hugged her back.
Then, just as quickly, he was gone.
Rachel remained there for a moment.
She bowed her head.
“Thank You.”
That was all she could say.
Across the room, Daniel was carrying a box toward the hallway when he heard Ethan behind him.
“Dad?”
Daniel kept walking.
Then he stopped.
Slowly, he turned around.
Ethan was standing there holding something.
“Can you help me with this?”
Daniel stared at him.
Ethan looked confused.
“What?”
Daniel looked across the room.
Rachel stood watching them.
Tears were running down her face.
And somehow Daniel understood.
He looked back at Ethan.
“Yeah.”
His voice caught.
He swallowed.
“Yeah, buddy. I can help you.”
Ethan handed him what he was carrying.
To Ethan, the moment seemed finished.
To Daniel, the entire room had changed.
He looked toward Rachel again.
She smiled.
Daniel didn't know about the prayer she had prayed.
Not yet.
He only knew that a little boy had just called him Dad.
And Daniel Walker had never been more aware of the weight of a word.
A few minutes later, Lily came running toward them.
“Dad!”
Daniel turned immediately this time.
Lily stopped.
Daniel stared at her.
She looked at Ethan.
Then at Daniel.
“What?”
Daniel laughed.
“Nothing.”
“I need to ask you something.”
Daniel already knew.
“No..”
Lily frowned.
“You don't even know what I was going to ask.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Can Sadie sleep in my room tonight?”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Rachel began laughing.
Ethan said,
“I told you.”
Lily crossed her arms.
“She's family too.”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
Rachel raised both hands.
“You're Dad now.”
Daniel stared at her.
“That's how this works?”
Rachel smiled.
“Apparently.”
By evening, the flowers had begun to wilt.
The food had been eaten.
The pictures had been taken.
The decorations were coming down.
Exactly as Pastor Nash had said.
The wedding was ending.
The marriage was beginning.
When they finally reached the house, Daniel unlocked the door.
He barely had time to open it before Sadie rushed toward them.
Lily dropped what she was carrying.
“Sadie!”
Sadie raced around Ethan, then Lily, then Rachel, then Daniel, unable to decide who deserved the most attention.
Daniel looked down at her.
“You missed the wedding.”
Lily said,
“She knows.”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
“Apparently she knows.”
Rachel laughed.
Ethan carried something toward his room.
Lily followed Sadie down the hallway.
And suddenly Daniel and Rachel were standing alone near the front door.
Rachel looked around.
The house was no longer waiting for a family.
The family was here.
She looked at Daniel.
“We're home.”
Daniel looked down the hallway.
Ethan.
Lily.
Sadie.
Then back at his wife.
His wife.
He smiled.
“Yeah.”
He reached for her hand.
“We are.”
Rachel looked down at the wedding ring on her finger.
Then she looked around the home God had built.
Months earlier, Daniel Walker had walked into a convenience store believing he was simply stopping for something ordinary.
He had no idea God was beginning to rewrite his life.
Daniel still had not told Rachel what had happened inside him that day.
There would be a time for that story.
But not today.
Today was about a different promise.
A covenant made before God.
Daniel had once known about God without truly knowing Him.
Now Christ had changed everything.
His heart.
His priorities.
His purpose.
His home.
And around him stood evidence of a life being made new.
A wife.
Two children.
A dog who remained convinced every important event somehow involved her.
And a Savior who had been faithful through it all.
Daniel looked toward Rachel.
Then toward the children.
And quietly, Daniel prayed for the family that now filled his house.
“Lord, this home belongs to You.”
Scripture for the Journey
Joshua 24:15 (NKJV)
“And if it seems evil to you to serve the LORD, choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve . . . But as for me and my house, we will serve the LORD.”
The Light to Carry
A wedding can happen in a day.
A covenant is lived for a lifetime.
Daniel and Rachel stood before God and made promises to one another.
Not promises of perfection.
Promises of faithfulness.
That is the heart of covenant.
A covenant does not say, “I will remain as long as everything goes the way I expect.”
It says, “I give myself.”
Daniel and Rachel would still have things to learn.
They would make mistakes.
There would be disagreements.
There would be days when loving one another would require humility, forgiveness, patience, and sacrifice.
But they would not face those days alone.
Christ would remain the foundation.
And something else happened that day.
Something no ceremony could manufacture.
For months, Rachel had carried a private prayer.
She wanted Ethan and Lily to love Daniel from their hearts.
And someday, if God brought it about, she wanted them to call him Dad.
Rachel refused to force it.
She trusted God with it.
Then, on the wedding day, Ethan asked the question himself.
“Can I call Daniel Dad now?”
The wedding did not legally make Daniel his father.
There was still another step ahead.
Adoption.
A day would come when Daniel would stand before another authority and choose legally what he was already choosing daily with his life.
To receive Ethan and Lily as his children.
But that day had not come yet.
Today something happened in the heart.
And sometimes God does His deepest work there first.
The paperwork can come later.
The name can come later.
But love was already building a family.
Daniel Walker had once moved to a new town with no idea what God was about to do.
He found more than a house.
More than a church.
More than a wife.
He found new life in Christ.
And now the words that would guide the Walker home were simple:
“As for me and my house, we will serve the LORD.”
In Christ — Journey 21: Becoming a Family
The wedding is over, but becoming a family has only begun.
As Daniel and Rachel settle into married life, Daniel is learning that fatherhood is built in ordinary moments—pancakes at the breakfast table, stolen socks, bedtime conversations, and hearing Ethan and Lily call him Dad because it comes from their hearts.
But that one word opens the door to something deeper.
Through Romans 8, Pastor Nash helps Daniel understand that when he was born again, God did more than forgive him—He brought him into His family. Daniel begins to see what Scripture means when it says believers have received the Spirit of adoption and can cry out, “Abba, Father.”
At home, Daniel tells Rachel that he wants to adopt Ethan and Lily. Rachel then reveals that their biological father has already said he will allow the adoption when the time comes.
Daniel begins to understand that adoption is not simply about giving the children his name.
It is about letting them know:
You belong here.
You are wanted.
You are family.
Scripture for the Journey
1 John 3:1 (NKJV)
“Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of God!”
In Christ, we are not standing outside hoping to be accepted. Through Jesus Christ, we have been brought into the family of God.
Listen To Journey 21
In Christ — Journey 21 — Becoming a Family
The first morning of Daniel and Rachel's marriage began with a sound Daniel had never heard in his house before.
Someone was knocking on the bedroom door.
Daniel opened his eyes.
For a moment, he didn't know what had awakened him.
Then came another knock.
“Mom?”
Daniel looked toward Rachel.
She was awake now too.
“That's Lily,” she whispered.
“I figured.”
Another knock.
“Mom?”
Rachel started to sit up.
Daniel looked at the clock.
“It's six-thirty.”
Rachel smiled.
“You wanted a family.”
Daniel stared at her.
“I didn't realize they started this early.”
Rachel laughed.
“Welcome to fatherhood.”
From the hallway came Ethan's voice.
“Lily, leave them alone.”
“But I'm hungry.”
“You know where the kitchen is.”
“But Mom makes breakfast.”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
She was trying not to laugh.
He sighed dramatically.
“Stay here.”
Rachel raised an eyebrow.
“Where are you going?”
Daniel climbed out of bed.
“Apparently I'm going to become a father one pancake at a time.”
He opened the door.
Lily was standing there.
“Good morning, Dad.”
Daniel stopped.
He still wasn't used to it.
Dad.
Yesterday Ethan had said it first.
Then Lily.
Daniel had wondered whether it would feel different this morning.
It did.
“Good morning.”
Lily smiled.
“I'm hungry.”
“So I've heard.”
“Mom makes pancakes.”
Daniel looked toward Ethan.
“Does she?”
Ethan nodded.
“Good ones.”
Daniel considered this.
“That's unfortunate.”
“Why?”
“Because I'm making breakfast.”
Lily's expression became suspicious.
“Can you make pancakes?”
Daniel started toward the kitchen.
“We're about to find out.”
Rachel called from the bedroom.
“I know where the fire extinguisher is.”
Daniel stopped.
“Thank you for your confidence.”
Rachel laughed.
Twenty minutes later, Daniel stood over a frying pan staring at something that technically qualified as a pancake.
Ethan looked at it.
“What happened?”
“Nothing happened.”
“It looks burned.”
“That's flavor.”
Lily poked it with her fork.
“It's crunchy.”
Daniel looked toward Rachel.
“Would you like to help?”
She took another sip of coffee.
“No.. I think this is important.”
“To whom?”
“To you.”
Daniel looked at the children.
“Your mother has abandoned us.”
Rachel smiled.
“I have complete confidence in you.”
Daniel looked at the pancake.
“You shouldn't.”
Ethan laughed.
And just like that, the first morning continued.
Not dramatically.
Not perfectly.
But together.
Later, Daniel stood in the hallway looking at the evidence that his house was no longer his alone.
Lily's shoes were beside the door.
Ethan's backpack rested against the wall.
Rachel's purse was on a chair.
Someone had left a glass on the coffee table.
Sadie was carrying a sock that almost certainly didn't belong to her.
Daniel pointed at her.
“No..”
Sadie stopped.
“Drop it.”
She ran.
Daniel sighed.
From the kitchen Rachel called,
“Everything okay?”
“Perfect.”
He heard her laugh.
Daniel smiled.
Yesterday they had stood before God and made a covenant.
Today they were beginning to live it.
And Daniel was discovering that covenant looked remarkably ordinary on a Saturday morning.
A few days later, Daniel was driving Ethan home when the boy became unusually quiet.
Daniel glanced at him.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
Daniel waited.
He was learning that sometimes Ethan needed a little room before he talked.
Finally Ethan said,
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Do I have to call you Dad all the time now?”
Daniel's hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel.
He hadn't expected the question.
“No..”
Ethan looked at him.
“I don't?”
“No.”
“But I called you Dad at the wedding.”
“I remember.”
“And Lily does now.”
Daniel smiled.
“I've noticed. ”
Ethan looked out the window.
Daniel understood that this moment needed more than a joke.
“Ethan, yesterday wasn't a rule.”
The boy looked back at him.
“You call me whatever comes from your heart.”
Ethan was quiet.
Daniel continued.
“When you called me Dad yesterday, it meant something to me.”
“How much?”
Daniel smiled.
“A lot.”
Ethan looked slightly embarrassed.
“But it meant so much because you chose it.”
Daniel paused.
“I never want you to think you have to call me something just to make me happy.”
Ethan nodded.
“So I can still call you Daniel?”
“Absolutely.”
Ethan thought for a moment.
“Okay, Dad.”
Daniel looked over at him.
Ethan was smiling.
Daniel laughed.
“You did that on purpose.”
“Maybe.”
Daniel shook his head.
Apparently the boy was learning from him.
That Wednesday evening, Daniel and Rachel stayed after church to finish cleaning.
The sanctuary was quiet.
Rachel was gathering music while Daniel finished putting away some equipment.
Pastor Nash walked through carrying his Bible.
Daniel looked at him.
“Pastor Nash?”
“Yes?”
“You have a minute?”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“I usually have at least one.”
Daniel looked toward Rachel.
She could tell from his expression that this wasn't about music.
“I'll finish this,” she said.
Daniel and Pastor Nash sat down near the front of the sanctuary.
For a moment Daniel seemed unsure how to begin.
Finally he said,
“I've been thinking about adoption.”
Pastor Nash looked at him.
“Ethan and Lily?”
“Yeah.”
Daniel paused.
“But something else too.”
Pastor Nash waited.
“I've been reading Romans.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“That's generally a good place to spend some time.”
Daniel opened his Bible.
“I got to chapter eight.”
He found the passage.
“Verse fifteen.”
Daniel read slowly.
“For you did not receive the spirit of bondage again to fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, ‘Abba, Father.’”
He looked up.
“I understand what adoption means with Ethan and Lily.”
Then he shook his head.
“Or at least I think I'm starting to.”
“But what does it mean there?”
Pastor Nash leaned back.
“It means you're about to discover something very important about what happened when you were born again.”
Daniel listened.
“When you came to Christ, Daniel, God didn't simply forgive your sins and then leave you standing outside His family.”
Pastor Nash paused.
“He brought you in.”
Daniel looked down at the verse.
“You became His child.”
Daniel was quiet.
Pastor Nash continued.
“For a long time, you knew about God.”
“Twenty-five years.”
“But you didn't know Him.”
“No.”
“Then you were born again.”
Daniel nodded.
Pastor Nash pointed toward the Bible.
“And now Scripture is teaching you something about your new identity.”
Daniel looked at him.
“God isn't only the God you worship.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“He's your Father.”
Daniel stared at the page.
The word landed differently now.
Father.
Only days earlier Ethan had looked at him and said Dad.
Daniel remembered how deeply one word had affected him.
Now Scripture was telling him that because of Christ, he had been brought into God's family.
“So when I got saved . . .”
Daniel hesitated.
“I didn't just get forgiven?”
Pastor Nash shook his head.
“No.”
“I became family?”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“You became a son.”
Daniel lowered his eyes.
For several seconds neither man spoke.
Then Daniel looked at Romans again.
“I don't think I understood that.”
“Most of us spend the rest of our lives learning what God has already given us in Christ.”
Pastor Nash turned a few pages.
“Look at Galatians chapter four.”
Daniel found it.
Pastor Nash pointed him toward the passage.
Daniel read.
“And because you are sons, God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying out, ‘Abba, Father!’ Therefore you are no longer a slave but a son, and if a son, then an heir of God through Christ.”
Daniel stopped.
“Heir?”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“That's what it says.”
Daniel looked back at the page.
“I'm still trying to get used to being a son.”
“You've got eternity to learn what comes with it.”
Daniel smiled.
Then his expression became serious again.
“What does Abba mean?”
“It expresses the relationship of a child with his father. Nearness. Belonging. Relationship.”
Pastor Nash leaned forward.
“Daniel, Christianity isn't God tolerating you because Jesus convinced Him not to punish you.”
Daniel listened carefully.
“The Father loved you.”
“He sent His Son for you.”
“And through Christ, you have been brought into His family.”
Pastor Nash turned back to Romans.
“Keep reading.”
Daniel read verses sixteen and seventeen.
“The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—”
He stopped again.
Children of God.
Pastor Nash said quietly,
“That's who you are in Christ.”
Daniel looked at him.
Not what he did.
Not how well he cleaned the church.
Not how well he led worship.
Not whether he got every Christian decision right.
Who he was.
A child of God.
Daniel looked toward the sanctuary.
“Pastor Nash?”
“Yes?”
“When Ethan called me Dad . . .”
His voice softened.
“I can't explain what that did to me.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“I imagine not.”
“He didn't have to.”
“No.”
“I didn't ask him to.”
“No.”
“He chose it.”
Daniel looked down at his Bible.
“And now I'm sitting here reading that I can call God Father.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
Daniel swallowed.
“That's a lot bigger than I thought salvation was.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“Daniel, you're only beginning.”
That evening, Daniel and Rachel sat at the kitchen table.
Ethan and Lily were getting ready for bed.
Or at least that was the theory.
There had already been one disagreement about whose turn it was to use the bathroom.
Sadie had stolen another sock.
Daniel was beginning to suspect the dog had a collection somewhere.
Rachel looked at him.
“You've been quiet since church.”
“Pastor Nash showed me something.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Probably.”
Rachel smiled.
“What?”
Daniel opened his Bible.
“We talked about adoption.”
Rachel's expression changed slightly.
“Adoption?”
“Not paperwork. Not yet.”
Daniel looked toward the hallway.
“I've been thinking about the kids.”
Rachel smiled.
“That's becoming a habit.”
“I want to adopt them.”
Rachel didn't answer.
Daniel looked back at her.
“I don't mean tomorrow. And I know there are things we'd have to do.”
He paused.
“I just need you to know what's in my heart.”
Rachel's eyes began to fill.
“Daniel . . .”
“What?”
“There's something I haven't told you.”
Daniel waited.
“Their father and I talked about this before.”
Daniel's expression changed.
Rachel continued.
“He told me that when the time came, he would allow you to adopt Ethan and Lily.”
Daniel stared at her.
“He said that?”
“Yes.”
“Before we were married?”
Rachel nodded.
“He knew where our lives were headed. And he told me he wouldn't stand in the way.”
Daniel sat quietly for several seconds.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Rachel smiled through her tears.
“Because I needed this to come from you.”
Daniel understood.
Rachel had never wanted another person's willingness to become pressure on him.
She hadn't wanted to tell Daniel that adoption was available and then wait for him to respond.
She had waited.
Just as she had waited for Ethan and Lily to call him Dad from their own hearts.
She had waited for Daniel to choose from his.
Daniel leaned back.
“So everybody knew except me.”
Rachel laughed.
“Not everybody.”
“It feels like everybody.”
Then Rachel became serious.
“Daniel, their father being willing doesn't make you their dad.”
Daniel looked at her.
“And a judge signing papers won't make you love them.”
She reached across the table and took his hand.
“You've already been doing that.”
Daniel looked toward the hallway again.
“I realized something tonight.”
“What?”
“I thought adoption was about making them mine.”
Rachel waited.
Daniel shook his head.
“That's not really it.”
“What is it?”
“I want them to know they belong.”
Rachel's eyes filled again.
Daniel continued.
“I want Ethan to know there isn't some point where I'm going to decide this is too much.”
“I want Lily to know this is her home.”
“I want them both to know I'm not temporarily married to their mother and temporarily interested in them.”
His voice became quieter.
“I want them to know they're wanted.”
Rachel squeezed his hand.
“Daniel . . .”
He looked at her.
“I think they already do.”
Daniel smiled.
“I hope so.”
Then he opened his Bible again.
“But Pastor Nash showed me why that matters so much.”
He turned it toward Rachel.
“Romans eight.”
Rachel glanced at the passage.
“Adoption.”
Daniel nodded.
“He told me when I was born again, God didn't just forgive me.”
“He brought me into His family.”
Rachel smiled.
Daniel continued.
“I knew Jesus saved me.”
He looked down.
“I don't think I understood that He made me a son.”
Rachel's expression softened.
Daniel looked at her.
“I've spent all this time learning how to live like a Christian.”
He tapped the Bible gently.
“And now I'm finding out who I am.”
Rachel smiled.
“In Christ.”
Daniel looked at her.
Then he smiled too.
“In Christ.”
From the hallway came Lily's voice.
“Dad!”
Daniel turned immediately.
“Yes?”
“Ethan says Sadie can't sleep in my room!”
Ethan shouted,
“Because she keeps stealing my socks!”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
Rachel tried not to laugh.
Daniel called back,
“I'll be there in a minute.”
Lily shouted,
“Okay!”
Daniel shook his head.
Rachel smiled.
“You answer pretty quickly to that name now.”
Daniel looked toward the hallway.
“Yeah.”
Then he became quiet.
“I think I'm beginning to understand why.”
Later that night, the house finally settled.
Daniel walked down the hallway.
He stopped first at Lily's room.
She was asleep.
Sadie was not in the bed.
Daniel considered that a victory.
He checked Ethan's room.
Ethan was asleep too.
Daniel stood there for a moment.
Yesterday they had been children he loved.
Today they were children calling him Dad.
And someday, if God continued opening the way, they might legally become his children.
But Daniel understood something now that he hadn't understood before.
A name wasn't what created belonging.
Love did.
Covenant did.
Faithfulness did.
And ultimately, God did.
Rachel stepped beside him.
Neither spoke for a moment.
Daniel looked down the hallway.
“I thought the wedding was when we became a family.”
Rachel leaned gently against him.
“Maybe that's when we made the promise.”
Daniel looked at her.
Rachel smiled.
“Now we get to live it.”
Daniel put his arm around her.
After a moment he said,
“There's something else.”
Rachel looked at him.
“What?”
“I think we need to pray about the adoption.”
Rachel nodded.
“About whether?”
Daniel shook his head.
“No..”
He looked once more toward the children's rooms.
“About how and when.”
Rachel smiled.
Together they walked back toward their room.
Daniel had begun this week learning what it meant for two people to become husband and wife.
Now God was teaching him something even deeper.
What it meant to belong.
What it meant to be received.
What it meant to be called a son.
And somewhere between a little boy calling him Dad and an open Bible telling him he could call God Father, Daniel was beginning to understand another part of who he was.
In Christ.
Scripture for the Journey
1 John 3:1 (NKJV)
“Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of God!”
The Light to Carry
When Daniel first came to Christ, he understood that Jesus had forgiven him.
But salvation was even greater than he realized.
God had not merely forgiven Daniel and left him standing outside.
He brought him into the family.
Romans 8 tells believers that we have received “the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, ‘Abba, Father.’”
Galatians tells us that we are no longer slaves, but sons—and because we are sons, we are heirs through Christ.
And 1 John declares something almost too wonderful to comprehend:
We are called children of God.
That is identity.
In Christ, we do not approach God as strangers trying to convince Him to accept us.
Through Jesus Christ, we have been brought near.
We belong.
We have a Father.
Daniel was beginning to understand this through something happening inside his own home.
Ethan and Lily calling him Dad did not create Daniel's love for them.
The word expressed a relationship that had already been growing.
And Daniel's desire to adopt them wasn't simply about putting Walker after their names.
He wanted them to know something deeper:
You belong here.
You are wanted.
You are family.
That gave Daniel a small glimpse of what God had done for him.
God doesn't merely give the believer a new set of rules.
In Christ, He gives us a new identity.
Forgiven.
Received.
Loved.
His.
A child of God.
And Daniel was only beginning to discover what that meant.
In Christ — Journey 22: In, Through, and With
Sometimes the smallest words carry the greatest truths.
Daniel has spent years reading the Bible primarily looking for what he was supposed to do for God. But after Pastor Nash's teaching about becoming a child of God, Daniel begins noticing something he has overlooked for years.
In Christ.
In Him.
Through Him.
With Him.
Excited by what he is discovering, Daniel brings it home to Rachel—and soon she begins seeing it too.
Together, with two open Bibles and a growing notebook titled Who We Are In Christ, they begin discovering what God's Word says has already been accomplished for those who belong to Jesus.
In Christ — a new creation.
In Christ Jesus — no condemnation.
In Him — redemption and forgiveness.
Through Him — access to the Father.
With Christ — made alive.
Rachel has walked with the Lord for years, yet even she realizes there are truths in familiar Scriptures she has read many times without really seeing.
Their Bible study is no longer simply about discovering what Christians are supposed to do.
They are beginning to discover who they are, what they have, and where they stand because they are In Christ.
Scripture for the Journey
Ephesians 1:3 (NKJV)
“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places in Christ.”
Sometimes the smallest words open the door to the greatest discoveries.
In Him. Through Him. With Him.
And Daniel and Rachel are only beginning to discover what that means.
Listen To Journey 22
In Christ — Journey 22 — In, Through, and With
Daniel had a problem.
It wasn't a bad problem.
Actually, Rachel had never seen him so excited about a problem in his life.
He came through the front door carrying his Bible under one arm and a notebook in his hand.
Rachel was standing at the kitchen counter.
“Hello to you too.”
Daniel stopped.
“Hi.”
He kissed her quickly.
Then he put the Bible on the table and opened it.
“Now you've got to see this.”
Rachel looked at him.
“See what?”
“These.”
She looked down at the page.
“Words?”
“Yes.”
Rachel waited.
Daniel pointed.
“Right there.”
Rachel leaned closer.
“‘In Christ Jesus.’”
“Exactly!”
Rachel looked at him.
“Exactly what?”
Daniel stared at her as though the answer should have been obvious.
“It's everywhere.”
“What is? ”
Daniel began flipping pages.
“In.”
Rachel raised an eyebrow.
“In?”
“In Christ. In Him. Through Him. With Him.”
Rachel smiled.
“You came home excited about prepositions?”
Daniel stopped.
For a moment he considered the question.
“Yes.”
Rachel laughed.
Daniel pointed at his Bible.
“No.. seriously. Look at this.”
He turned to Second Corinthians.
“Second Corinthians five, seventeen.”
He read aloud.
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.”
Daniel tapped the page.
“See it?”
Rachel nodded.
“In Christ.”
“Exactly.”
He turned several pages.
“Now Romans eight, verse one.”
He read.
“There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus.”
He looked at Rachel.
“There it is again.”
Rachel's smile began to fade.
Not because she was losing interest.
Because she was beginning to see what Daniel was seeing.
Daniel turned to Ephesians.
“Now look at this one.”
He found the verse.
“Ephesians one, seven.”
He read slowly.
“In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace.”
Daniel looked up.
“In Him.”
Rachel reached for the Bible.
“Wait.”
Daniel smiled.
“What?”
“Go back.”
“To which one?”
“All of them.”
Daniel laughed.
“I told you.”
Rachel pulled out a chair and sat down.
“Show me again.”
Daniel sat beside her.
He returned to Second Corinthians.
“In Christ . . . new creation.”
Then Romans.
“In Christ Jesus . . . no condemnation.”
Then Ephesians.
“In Him . . . redemption and forgiveness.”
Rachel stared at the pages.
“I've read these.”
“So have I.”
“No.. I mean I've really read these.”
Daniel nodded.
“So have I.”
Rachel looked at him.
“How did I not see that?”
Daniel smiled.
“That's what I've been asking all afternoon.”
Rachel took the Bible from him.
“Where did you get this?”
Daniel leaned back.
“I was thinking about what Pastor Nash showed me about adoption.”
Rachel nodded.
“He said I needed to understand who I am in Christ.”
Daniel pointed toward the Bible.
“So I started looking at that phrase.”
“In Christ?”
“Yeah.”
“And then I noticed ‘in Him.’”
He opened the notebook.
“And then ‘through Him.’”
He flipped a page.
“And then ‘with Christ.’”
Rachel looked at the notebook.
Several references were already written down.
At the top Daniel had written:
WHO I AM IN CHRIST.
Rachel read it.
Then she looked at him.
“You've been busy.”
“I may have forgotten to eat lunch.”
Rachel stared at him.
“You forgot to eat?”
“I was studying.”
Rachel put a hand against his forehead.
Daniel pulled away.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking for a fever.”
“Very funny.”
Rachel smiled.
“I'm not sure I've ever seen you forget lunch.”
“I'm telling you, Rachel, this is different.”
His expression became serious.
“For years I read the Bible mostly looking for what I was supposed to do.”
Rachel listened.
“Do this.”
“Don't do that.”
“Be better.”
“Try harder.”
“Go to church.”
“Pray more.”
“Give.”
“Serve.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Some of those things are good. Some are things God tells us to do.”
He touched the open Bible.
“But I was so busy looking for what I was supposed to do for God that I wasn't seeing what God had already done for me in Christ.”
Rachel looked down at the page again.
This time she didn't answer.
She started reading.
A few moments later she said,
“Daniel.”
“What?”
“I found another one.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“Another ‘in’?”
Rachel shook her head.
“No.. Through.”
Daniel reached for the notebook.
“Where?”
“Ephesians two, eighteen.”
Rachel read aloud.
“For through Him we both have access by one Spirit to the Father.”
Daniel stared at her.
“Through Him.”
Rachel nodded.
“We have access to the Father.”
“Write it down.”
Rachel laughed.
“You write it down. It's your notebook.”
Daniel started writing.
Rachel looked at the top of the page again.
WHO I AM IN CHRIST.
She picked up the pen.
“Hey.”
“What?”
She crossed out one word.
Daniel looked.
WHO WE ARE IN CHRIST.
He smiled.
“Okay.”
Rachel handed the pen back.
“Now write.”
Daniel did.
The next half hour became an unexpected Bible study.
One verse led to another.
Then another.
Rachel went to get her own Bible.
Daniel started another page in the notebook.
Across the top he wrote:
IN HIM.
Then:
THROUGH HIM.
Then:
WITH HIM.
Rachel watched.
“Those are pretty small words.”
Daniel nodded.
“Apparently they've been hiding some pretty big things.”
Rachel laughed.
Then she started searching again.
A few minutes later she stopped.
“Here's one.”
Daniel looked up.
“Which column?”
“In.”
“Where?”
“Ephesians two, ten.”
Rachel read.
“For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them.”
Daniel wrote down the reference.
“His workmanship.”
Rachel nodded.
“Created in Christ Jesus.”
Daniel looked at her.
“You're getting good at this.”
“I've been doing it for twenty minutes.”
“Still.”
Rachel turned another page.
Daniel continued searching.
Then he stopped.
“Rachel.”
“What?”
“Look at this.”
He pointed to Ephesians chapter two.
“Verse five.”
Rachel leaned closer.
Daniel read.
“Even when we were dead in trespasses, made us alive together with Christ.”
Rachel pointed at the words.
“With Christ.”
Daniel nodded.
Then he continued into the next verse.
“And raised us up together, and made us sit together in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus.”
Both of them became quiet.
Rachel looked at the notebook.
“With Christ.”
“Made alive.”
Daniel nodded.
“Raised up together.”
“In Christ Jesus.”
Daniel wrote quickly.
Rachel watched him.
Then she laughed.
“What?”
“We're going to need a bigger notebook.”
Daniel smiled.
“I was thinking the same thing.”
From the hallway came Lily's voice.
“What are you doing?”
Daniel and Rachel turned.
Lily stood in the doorway holding a stuffed animal.
“Bible study,” Rachel said.
Lily looked at the table.
There were two open Bibles, a notebook, several pieces of paper and three pens.
“Why?”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
Rachel looked at Daniel.
Finally Daniel said,
“We found something.”
Lily walked closer.
“Was it lost?”
Rachel covered her mouth.
Daniel tried not to laugh.
“No..”
“Then how did you find it?”
Daniel considered the question.
“It was there the whole time.”
Lily looked confused.
Rachel smiled.
“Sometimes you can look at something for a long time before you really see it.”
Lily thought about that.
Then she nodded as though this made perfect sense.
“Okay.”
She started back toward the hallway.
Then she stopped.
“Sadie has Ethan's sock.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Of course she does.”
The following Wednesday, Daniel found Pastor Nash after service.
“Pastor Nash.”
Pastor Nash looked at him.
“You look excited.”
“I am.”
“That usually means you've either discovered something in the Bible or bought another guitar.”
“Bible.”
“Good. Those are usually cheaper.”
Daniel laughed.
“Rachel's doing it too.”
Pastor Nash looked puzzled.
“Doing what?”
“Looking for prepositions.”
Pastor Nash stared at him.
“I feel like I missed part of this conversation.”
Daniel opened his Bible.
“In Christ. In Him. Through Him. With Him.”
Understanding crossed Pastor Nash's face.
“Ah.”
Daniel smiled.
“It's everywhere.”
“It certainly is.”
“I've read some of these verses before.”
“I imagine you have.”
“But I never noticed the pattern.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“Sometimes we become so familiar with Scripture that we stop noticing what it's actually saying.”
Daniel showed him the notebook.
“Look.”
Pastor Nash read the heading.
WHO WE ARE IN CHRIST.
Below it were pages of references.
Daniel continued.
“Rachel found some of these.”
Pastor Nash turned a page.
“We've got ‘In Him.’”
Another page.
“‘Through Him.’”
Another.
“‘With Him.’”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“You two have been busy.”
Daniel nodded.
“Pastor Nash, why didn't I see this before?”
Pastor Nash handed the notebook back.
“Probably for the same reason all of us miss things in Scripture.”
“Which is?”
“We're still learning.”
Daniel nodded.
Then Pastor Nash became serious.
“But let me give you one caution.”
Daniel listened.
“Don't turn this into a game of collecting phrases.”
Daniel's expression changed.
Pastor Nash pointed toward the Bible.
“Those words matter because of what God is actually saying through them.”
He opened Daniel's Bible.
“Read the verse.”
“Read the verses around it.”
“Understand who is speaking, who is being addressed, and what the passage is teaching.”
Daniel nodded.
“Context.”
“Exactly.”
Pastor Nash continued.
“We don't pull a few words out of Scripture and make them mean whatever we want.”
“We discover what God has said.”
“And when we understand what He has said . . .”
Pastor Nash tapped the Bible gently.
“. . . we believe Him.”
Daniel looked at the notebook again.
“So I'm not just looking for ‘in Christ.’”
“No.”
“You're discovering what God says is true because you are in Christ.”
Daniel smiled.
“That's bigger.”
“Much bigger.”
Daniel looked down at the pages.
“New creation.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“Forgiven.”
“Yes.”
“No condemnation.”
“Yes.”
“Access to the Father.”
“Yes.”
“Made alive with Christ.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“Now you're beginning to see it.”
Daniel became quiet.
Then he said,
“For twenty-five years I thought Christianity was mostly about trying to become good enough for God.”
Pastor Nash shook his head.
“You couldn't become good enough.”
Daniel smiled.
“I'm starting to figure that out.”
“That's why you needed Jesus.”
Daniel nodded.
Pastor Nash continued.
“The Christian life doesn't begin with what you can do for Christ.”
“It begins with what Christ has done for you.”
Daniel looked at him.
“And then we live from that?”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“Now you're asking the right question.”
That night Daniel and Rachel were back at the kitchen table.
The children were asleep.
At least they were supposed to be.
Sadie was lying beneath the table.
Daniel had checked.
There were no socks visible.
Rachel was reading Ephesians again.
Daniel was organizing their growing collection of references.
Rachel suddenly said,
“I think I understand something.”
Daniel looked up.
“What?”
“I've always known Jesus saved me.”
Daniel nodded.
“I've known He forgave me.”
She paused.
“But I've mostly thought about those things as something Jesus did for me.”
Daniel waited.
Rachel looked down at her Bible.
“I'm not sure I've thought enough about what it means that I'm actually in Him.”
Daniel smiled.
“That's exactly what happened to me.”
Rachel continued.
“It's relationship.”
“Yes.”
“Position.”
Daniel nodded.
“Identity.”
Rachel looked at him.
“Belonging.”
That word stopped them both.
Only days earlier, they had been talking about Ethan and Lily.
Daniel wanting them to know they belonged.
Now the same word had returned.
Rachel looked toward the hallway.
“Funny.”
“What?”
“We've been talking about the kids belonging to this family.”
Daniel followed her eyes.
“And now we're learning about belonging to God's family.”
Rachel nodded.
Daniel looked at the notebook.
“I don't think that's an accident.”
For a few moments they sat quietly.
Then Rachel turned several pages.
“Here's another one.”
Daniel picked up his pen.
“In, through, or with?”
Rachel smiled.
“In.”
“I need another page.”
She laughed.
Daniel turned to a clean sheet.
Rachel read the passage.
Daniel wrote the reference.
And the study continued.
Not because someone had assigned them homework.
Not because they were preparing to teach anyone.
They were hungry.
The Word of God had begun opening before them in a way neither expected.
Daniel had only recently discovered that God was his Father.
Now he was discovering what belonged to him as a child of God.
Rachel had walked with Christ for years.
Yet she too was discovering that there were treasures in familiar Scriptures she had passed over without seeing.
Neither felt embarrassed by that.
They were excited.
Because tomorrow there would be more.
Before going to bed, Rachel closed her Bible.
Daniel was still looking at the notebook.
“Daniel?”
“Yeah?”
“I thought I knew who I was as a Christian.”
Daniel looked at her.
“Me too.”
Rachel smiled.
“Maybe we're just beginning to find out.”
Daniel looked down.
At the top of the page were the words:
WHO WE ARE IN CHRIST.
Below them:
IN HIM.
THROUGH HIM.
WITH HIM.
The pages beneath those headings were beginning to fill.
Daniel slowly closed the notebook.
“I think this is going to take a while.”
Rachel smiled.
“We have time.”
Daniel reached for her hand.
They sat together for another moment.
Husband and wife.
Two open Bibles.
One notebook.
And a revelation that was only beginning.
They had entered marriage believing God was joining their lives together.
Now, sitting side by side with His Word before them, they were discovering something that would shape those lives for years to come.
The smallest words were opening some of the greatest truths.
In Him.
Through Him.
With Him.
Daniel had spent years reading Scripture primarily to discover what he was supposed to do for God.
Now he and Rachel were beginning to discover what God had already done for them through Jesus Christ.
What they had.
Who they were.
Where they stood.
Not because they had earned it.
Not because they had finally become good enough.
But because of where God had placed them.
In Christ.
And they had only begun to discover what that meant.
Scripture for the Journey
Ephesians 1:3 (NKJV)
“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places in Christ.”
The Light to Carry
Sometimes the smallest words carry enormous truth.
In.
Through.
With.
Read through the New Testament and begin paying attention to expressions such as:
In Christ.
In Him.
Through Him.
With Christ.
Don't simply collect the phrases.
Read them in context.
Ask what God is actually saying.
And begin discovering what Scripture says is true of those who belong to Jesus Christ.
In Christ, we are new creations.
In Christ Jesus, there is no condemnation.
In Him, we have redemption and forgiveness.
Through Him, we have access to the Father.
With Christ, we have been made alive.
These aren't rewards waiting for the day when we finally become good enough Christians.
They point us toward what God has accomplished through Jesus Christ and the identity believers have because they belong to Him.
Daniel had spent much of his life asking:
“What am I supposed to do for God?”
Now he was beginning to ask another question:
“What has God already done for me in Christ?”
And Rachel was discovering it with him.
That question was opening their Bibles in a whole new way.
Maybe it can open ours too.
Look for the little words.
Read the whole passage.
Believe what God has said.
And discover who you are...
In Christ.
In Christ — Journey 23: Children and Heirs
Daniel and Rachel are still discovering the enormous truths hidden in some very small words.
In Him. Through Him. With Him.
But this time, Daniel stops at another word in Romans 8:
Heirs.
Scripture says that believers are not only children of God—but if children, then heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ.
For Daniel, that truth becomes especially meaningful as he and Rachel begin taking the first steps toward his adoption of Ethan and Lily.
When Ethan asks what adoption will actually change, Daniel explains that some things will change legally. Eventually, even their names could change.
But Ethan answers with something far more important:
“But you're already my dad.”
Daniel begins to understand that the coming adoption will not create his love for Ethan and Lily. It will formally recognize a relationship that is already being built.
And that earthly experience helps him see something even greater in God's Word.
In Christ, Daniel isn't standing outside God's family hoping to be accepted.
He has been brought in.
He is a child of God.
And if a child...
then an heir.
Scripture for the Journey
Galatians 4:6–7 (NKJV)
“And because you are sons, God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying out, ‘Abba, Father!’ Therefore you are no longer a slave but a son, and if a son, then an heir of God through Christ.”
The little words are still opening some very big truths.
And Daniel and Rachel are still only beginning to discover what it means to be...
In Christ.
Listen To Journey 23
In Christ — Journey 23 — Children and Heirs
The notebook had become a permanent resident of the kitchen table.
It hadn't started that way.
Daniel had originally intended to keep it with his Bible.
But every time he put it away, either he or Rachel found another verse.
So the notebook stayed.
Two words had been crossed out on the first page.
Who I Am In Christ
had become:
Who We Are In Christ
And underneath were the headings that had changed the way they were reading Scripture.
In Him.
Through Him.
With Him.
Daniel was sitting at the table early Saturday morning when Rachel walked into the kitchen.
She stopped.
“You're doing it again.”
Daniel looked up.
“Doing what?”
“Studying before coffee.”
“I have coffee.”
Rachel looked at the cup.
“You have an empty cup.”
Daniel looked at it.
“Oh.”
Rachel smiled.
“This is getting serious.”
She poured coffee for both of them and sat across from him.
“What did you find?”
Daniel turned his Bible toward her.
“Something we've already read.”
Rachel smiled.
“That seems to be happening a lot lately.”
“Romans eight.”
“Adoption?”
“Yeah.”
Daniel ran his finger down the page.
“Pastor Nash showed me this when we were talking about becoming children of God.”
Rachel nodded.
“But I think I stopped too soon.”
“Where?”
Daniel began reading.
“The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—”
He stopped.
Rachel waited.
Daniel tapped the word.
“Heirs.”
Rachel looked at it.
“We read that.”
“I know.”
“And Pastor Nash talked about it.”
“I know.”
Rachel smiled.
“And now you're seeing it.”
Daniel nodded.
“Now I'm seeing it.”
He read the words again.
“If children, then heirs.”
Rachel took a drink of coffee.
“What are you thinking?”
Daniel leaned back.
“I don't know yet.”
Rachel laughed.
“That usually means we're about to need another page in the notebook.”
Daniel smiled.
“Probably.”
Then he became serious.
“When Pastor Nash explained adoption, I understood belonging.”
Rachel listened.
“God didn't just forgive me. He brought me into His family.”
“Yes.”
“I'm His child.”
“Yes.”
“But this says something else comes with being a child.”
Rachel looked at the verse.
“Inheritance.”
Daniel nodded.
“If children . . . then heirs.”
For several moments neither spoke.
Then Daniel said quietly,
“Rachel, I don't think I've ever thought about God like this.”
She reached across the table and touched his hand.
“Then maybe we should.”
Later that afternoon, Daniel found Pastor Nash at the church.
Daniel and Rachel had come by to finish some cleaning, although what used to take them most of an afternoon now took considerably less time.
They had developed a system.
Rachel claimed this was because they were becoming more efficient.
Daniel claimed it was because Pastor Nash had finally stopped finding additional rooms.
Pastor Nash denied everything.
Daniel found him in the sanctuary with his Bible.
“Pastor Nash?”
Pastor Nash looked up.
“Let me guess.”
“What?”
“You found another preposition.”
Daniel smiled.
“Not exactly.”
Pastor Nash closed his Bible.
“What did you find?”
“One word.”
“That can be dangerous.”
“Heirs.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“Romans eight?”
Daniel nodded.
“You knew?”
“It's usually where people end up when they start thinking seriously about adoption.”
Daniel sat down.
“You told me about this before.”
“I did.”
“I heard you.”
Pastor Nash waited.
Daniel smiled.
“I just didn't hear you.”
“That happens.”
Daniel opened his Bible.
“The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs.”
He stopped there.
“That's what I don't think I understood.”
“What part?”
“If I'm God's child, then I'm His heir.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“That's what Scripture says.”
Daniel looked down.
“But what does that actually mean?”
Pastor Nash opened his Bible to Romans eight.
“Keep reading.”
Daniel did.
“Heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him, that we may also be glorified together.”
Daniel looked up.
“Joint heirs with Christ.”
“Yes.”
“That sounds enormous.”
“It is.”
Daniel stared at the verse.
Pastor Nash continued.
“Remember something, Daniel. We don't build doctrine from the part of a verse we like and ignore the rest.”
Daniel nodded.
“Context.”
“Exactly.”
Pastor Nash pointed to the passage.
“Paul isn't promising Christians that they'll get everything they want in this life.”
Daniel nodded again.
“He talks about suffering.”
“Right there in the same verse.”
Pastor Nash continued.
“But he is telling believers something extraordinary about their relationship with God.”
“What?”
“You are His child.”
Daniel waited.
“And because you are His child, you have a place in what God has prepared for His children through Christ.”
Daniel looked at the page again.
“So I'm not just allowed into the house.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“No..”
Daniel thought for a moment.
“I'm family.”
“You're family.”
“And an heir.”
“And an heir.”
Daniel became quiet.
Then he said,
“I've spent most of my life feeling like I was standing somewhere near God.”
Pastor Nash looked at him.
“Near enough to know about Him.”
Daniel nodded.
“Near enough to go to church.”
“Yes.”
“Near enough to call myself religious.”
“Yes.”
“But still outside.”
Pastor Nash leaned forward.
“Daniel, in Christ, you're not standing on the porch.”
Daniel looked at him.
“You've been brought into the family.”
Daniel didn't answer.
He looked back at Romans.
For years he had thought of God primarily in terms of distance.
God was in heaven.
Daniel was on earth.
God was holy.
Daniel was trying to behave.
God gave commandments.
Daniel tried to keep them.
But Jesus had changed everything.
Through Christ, Daniel had been brought near.
In Christ, he had become a child of God.
And if a child . . .
Then an heir.
Daniel looked at Pastor Nash.
“I'm going to need a bigger notebook.”
Pastor Nash laughed.
That evening, Daniel and Rachel were sitting at the kitchen table again.
But this time the notebook wasn't the only paperwork in front of them.
There were notes concerning the adoption.
Nothing had been decided about dates yet.
They were still learning what would need to happen and what steps would eventually have to be taken.
Rachel's former husband had already said he would allow Daniel to adopt Ethan and Lily when the time came.
But Daniel and Rachel had agreed on something important.
They weren't going to rush simply because the door appeared open.
They would pray.
They would move carefully.
And they would make sure Ethan and Lily understood what was happening at a level appropriate for them.
Ethan walked into the kitchen.
He looked at the papers.
“What are those?”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
Rachel nodded.
Daniel pulled out a chair.
“Come here for a minute.”
Ethan sat down.
Daniel turned toward him.
“Your mom and I have been talking about something.”
Ethan looked suspicious.
“Am I in trouble?”
Rachel smiled.
“No.”
“Is Lily in trouble?”
“No.”
“Sadie?”
Daniel looked beneath the table.
Sadie was lying there with her head on her paws.
“Probably. But that's unrelated.”
Ethan smiled.
Daniel continued.
“You remember when we talked about adoption?”
Ethan nodded.
“A little.”
Daniel chose his words carefully.
“Your mom and I are beginning to learn what we would need to do if I were to adopt you and Lily.”
Ethan looked at the papers again.
Then at Daniel.
“If you adopt us, what changes?”
Daniel hadn't expected the question to come so quickly.
He looked at Rachel.
She let him answer.
“Some things wouldn't change at all.”
“Like what?”
“I'd still love you.”
Ethan nodded.
“I'd still help you with homework.”
“Okay.”
“I'd still tell you to clean your room.”
Ethan frowned.
“I thought adoption was supposed to be good.”
Rachel laughed.
Daniel smiled.
“Sorry. That's apparently part of the package.”
Ethan thought for a moment.
“What does change?”
Daniel leaned forward.
“Some things would change legally.”
Ethan waited.
“The law would recognize me as your father.”
Ethan looked puzzled.
“But you're already my dad.”
Daniel stopped.
There it was again.
A simple sentence from an eight-year-old.
No ceremony.
No great announcement.
No carefully prepared speech.
Just truth spoken from a child's heart.
But you're already my dad.
Daniel swallowed.
“Yeah, buddy.”
His voice was quieter now.
“That's the part that happened first.”
Rachel looked away for a moment.
Daniel knew why.
He had only recently learned about the prayer she had carried in her heart.
That if Daniel truly was the man God had for their family, someday the children would call him Dad.
Not because someone told them to.
Because it came from their hearts.
Ethan looked back at the paperwork.
“Would our names change?”
Daniel and Rachel exchanged a glance.
“Eventually,” Daniel said, “if everything is completed, you and Lily could have the Walker name too.”
Ethan thought about it.
“Ethan Walker.”
Daniel smiled.
“How does it sound?”
Ethan shrugged.
“Okay.”
Rachel laughed.
Daniel shook his head.
“I was hoping for a little more enthusiasm.”
Ethan smiled.
“I have to think about it.”
“Fair enough.”
Then Ethan asked,
“Would I still be me?”
Daniel's smile disappeared.
He looked directly at him.
“Yes.”
Ethan waited.
Daniel continued.
“A name wouldn't erase where you came from.”
“It wouldn't erase your story.”
“And it wouldn't make you somebody different.”
Ethan nodded slowly.
Daniel reached across the table.
“It would simply be another way of saying something we've already been learning.”
“What?”
Daniel smiled.
“You belong here.”
Ethan looked at him.
Then at Rachel.
Then back at Daniel.
“I already knew that.”
Daniel's eyes filled.
“Good.”
Ethan stood.
“Can I go now?”
Daniel laughed.
“Yes.”
Ethan headed toward the hallway.
Then stopped.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“If I become Ethan Walker, do I still have to clean my room?”
Daniel stared at him.
“Yes.”
Ethan sighed.
“Then I don't see what the big deal is.”
Rachel burst out laughing.
Daniel pointed toward the hallway.
“Go.”
Ethan disappeared.
Daniel looked at Rachel.
“Very emotional moment.”
Rachel wiped tears from her eyes.
“I thought so.”
“Until the room.”
“He's eight.”
Daniel nodded.
“Good point.”
Later, after Ethan and Lily were in bed, Daniel returned to Romans eight.
Rachel sat beside him.
“I think I understand why that hit me today.”
“Heirs?”
Daniel nodded.
He looked toward the hallway.
“When I think about adopting Ethan and Lily, I'm not thinking about bringing two strangers into my house.”
Rachel listened.
“They already belong here.”
“Yes.”
“I already love them.”
Rachel nodded.
“They already call me Dad.”
Daniel paused.
“But adoption says something publicly and legally about that relationship.”
Rachel took his hand.
Daniel continued.
“It says they're not guests.”
“They're not temporary.”
“They're not children I'm just helping raise because I married their mother.”
His voice softened.
“They're my children.”
Rachel squeezed his hand.
Daniel looked at Romans.
“And when Scripture says I'm God's child . . .”
He paused.
“God isn't tolerating me in His house.”
Rachel smiled.
“No.”
“I'm not some second-class member of the family.”
“No.”
Daniel looked at the words again.
“If children, then heirs.”
Rachel nodded.
“Then heirs.”
Daniel sat quietly.
Finally Rachel said,
“But we need to be careful.”
Daniel looked at her.
“About what?”
“About making what we're doing with Ethan and Lily exactly the same as what God has done for us.”
Daniel considered it.
“They're not exactly the same.”
“No..”
Rachel continued.
“Human families are complicated.”
“Very.”
“There are biological parents. Courts. Laws. People's decisions.”
Daniel nodded.
“And we're imperfect.”
“Definitely you.”
Daniel looked at her.
Rachel smiled.
“I was trying to make a theological point.”
“I'm glad I could help.”
She laughed.
Then Daniel became serious again.
“But maybe what we're walking through can help us understand something.”
Rachel nodded.
“Belonging.”
Daniel looked at the verse.
“And inheritance.”
The following Wednesday, Daniel mentioned the conversation to Pastor Nash.
Pastor Nash listened carefully.
When Daniel finished, Pastor Nash nodded.
“Rachel's right.”
“About me being imperfect?”
“That too.”
Daniel shook his head.
Pastor Nash smiled.
“But especially about not forcing every detail of human adoption into a picture of salvation.”
Daniel nodded.
“It's an illustration, not an exact copy.”
“Exactly.”
Pastor Nash opened to Galatians chapter four.
“Look at verses six and seven again.”
Daniel read.
“And because you are sons, God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying out, ‘Abba, Father!’ Therefore you are no longer a slave but a son, and if a son, then an heir of God through Christ.”
Daniel stopped.
There it was again.
Through Christ.
He smiled.
Pastor Nash noticed.
“What?”
“Another preposition.”
Pastor Nash laughed.
“I should have known.”
Daniel pointed at the verse.
“An heir of God through Christ.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“That's the center of it.”
“Through Christ.”
“Yes.”
Daniel looked at the verse.
“Not because I earned it.”
“No.”
“Not because I became religious enough.”
“No.”
“Not because I served enough.”
“No.”
“Not because I lead worship.”
“No.”
“Not because I clean the church.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“Although I wouldn't stop.”
Daniel laughed.
Then Pastor Nash pointed again to the words.
Through Christ.
“Your relationship with the Father is through Jesus Christ.”
Daniel nodded.
“Your standing is through Christ.”
Another nod.
“And whatever inheritance God has promised His children is yours because you belong to Him through Christ.”
Daniel looked at the page.
“There's that little word again.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“They'll do that.”
That night Daniel added another entry to the notebook.
Under THROUGH HIM, he wrote:
An heir of God through Christ — Galatians 4:7.
Rachel read over his shoulder.
“That's getting full.”
Daniel nodded.
“We're definitely going to need another notebook.”
Rachel sat beside him.
Daniel looked at the page.
Then toward the children's rooms.
“It's strange.”
“What?”
“A few weeks ago, I was wondering whether Ethan would ever see me as his father.”
Rachel smiled.
“And now?”
“Now he's worried adoption won't get him out of cleaning his room.”
Rachel laughed.
Daniel smiled.
Then his expression softened.
“But today he asked whether changing his name would change who he is.”
Rachel nodded.
“That was a big question.”
“Yeah.”
Daniel looked again at the notebook.
“I think I've been asking God the same thing.”
Rachel waited.
“When I became a Christian . . . did I just get a new label?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
Daniel nodded.
“That's what I'm beginning to understand.”
He looked at the words they had written together.
In Christ.
In Him.
Through Him.
With Him.
Daniel had not simply adopted a new religion.
God had given him a new relationship.
A new standing.
A new identity.
He had been brought into God's family through Jesus Christ.
And Scripture said that because he was a child . . .
He was also an heir.
Daniel closed the notebook.
From down the hallway came Ethan's voice.
“Dad!”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
She smiled.
“You'd better answer.”
Daniel stood.
“I'm getting pretty good at that.”
He walked toward the hallway.
“What is it?”
“Sadie's in my room!”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Does she have a sock?”
A pause.
“Two!”
Daniel looked back at Rachel.
She was laughing.
He shook his head and continued down the hallway.
Fatherhood.
Apparently the inheritance included socks.
Scripture for the Journey
Galatians 4:6–7 (NKJV)
“And because you are sons, God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying out, ‘Abba, Father!’ Therefore you are no longer a slave but a son, and if a son, then an heir of God through Christ.”
The Light to Carry
God's Word doesn't merely tell believers that they have been forgiven.
It tells us that through Christ we have been brought into relationship with the Father.
Children of God.
And if children . . .
then heirs.
Romans 8 tells us that believers are children of God and heirs of God—joint heirs with Christ.
Galatians tells us that we are no longer slaves but sons, and if sons, then heirs of God through Christ.
That doesn't mean Christians are promised an easy life.
Romans speaks about suffering in the very passage that speaks about inheritance.
Our inheritance is not a promise that we will receive everything we desire in this present world.
It is something far greater.
We belong to God.
Daniel was beginning to understand this through something happening in his own home.
Ethan and Lily already belonged in his heart.
The coming adoption would not manufacture Daniel's love for them.
It would formally recognize a relationship that was already being built.
Human adoption is not a perfect picture of salvation.
Human families are imperfect.
God is not.
But the experience helped Daniel understand one remarkable truth:
In Christ, he was no longer standing outside God's family trying to earn his way in.
He had been brought in.
Not because of what Daniel had done.
But because of Jesus.
Through Christ.
He was a child.
And if a child . . .
then an heir.
The little words were still opening some very big truths.
And Daniel and Rachel were still only beginning to discover what it meant to be...
In Christ.
In Christ — Journey 24: Accepted in the Beloved
Daniel thought he was simply teaching Ethan that having a father sometimes means correction.
Instead, God used an ordinary moment in a messy bedroom to teach Daniel something about his own relationship with his heavenly Father.
When Ethan wonders whether Daniel still wants to adopt him after he gets in trouble, Daniel assures him:
“I'm not adopting you because you've been good enough.”
Those words stay with Daniel until Ephesians opens another truth in their growing study of who they are In Christ:
“He made us accepted in the Beloved.” — Ephesians 1:6
Daniel begins to understand that correction does not mean rejection. Rachel discovers the same truth from another direction as she considers the wounds left by human rejection.
Their acceptance does not rest in perfect performance or another person's approval.
It rests in Christ.
And somewhere in the middle of all that revelation, Sadie may finally prove she has been trying to clean Ethan's room all along. 🐕🧦
Journey 24 — Accepted in the Beloved
Listen To Journey 24
In Christ — Journey 24 — Accepted in the Beloved
The bedroom door was open.
Daniel stood in the hallway staring inside.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
That alone was enough to concern Ethan.
Ethan appeared beside him.
“What?”
Daniel continued staring.
There were clothes on the floor.
A backpack was half under the bed.
Two books were open facedown near the wall.
One shoe was beside the dresser.
The other shoe appeared to have entered another dimension.
And in the middle of everything sat Sadie.
She had a sock in her mouth.
Daniel folded his arms.
“Ethan.”
“What?”
“What happened in here?”
Ethan looked into the room as though seeing it for the first time.
“I don't know.”
Daniel slowly turned toward him.
“You don't know?”
“No.”
Daniel pointed into the room.
“Did somebody break into the house?”
Ethan looked at him.
“No.”
“Did they come in here, throw everything on the floor, take one of your shoes, and leave?”
Ethan smiled.
“No.”
Daniel looked at Sadie.
Sadie stared back at him with the sock still hanging from her mouth.
Daniel pointed at her.
“And I'm beginning to think she's not stealing your socks.”
Ethan looked at Sadie.
“What do you mean?”
“I think she's trying to clean your room.”
Ethan laughed.
Sadie walked past them carrying the sock into the hallway.
Daniel watched her go.
“At least somebody is.”
Ethan stopped laughing.
“Dad.”
“Yes?”
“I was going to clean it.”
“When?”
Ethan hesitated.
Daniel waited.
“Later.”
“Later today?”
Another hesitation.
“Probably.”
Daniel nodded.
“Okay. We're going to change probably into definitely.”
Ethan frowned.
“But I was going outside.”
“You can go outside after your room is cleaned.”
“But Lily's already outside.”
“Lily's room isn't this room.”
“That's not fair.”
Daniel looked at him.
“What isn't fair?”
“Everybody else gets to do what they want.”
“Ethan, I asked you yesterday to straighten this up.”
“I forgot.”
“And I'm reminding you.”
“But I don't want to do it right now.”
Daniel's voice remained calm.
“I understand that.”
Ethan's frustration rose.
“Why do I have to do everything you say?”
The words hung in the hallway.
Ethan seemed to realize immediately that he had gone too far.
Daniel felt something inside him react.
He wanted to answer quickly.
Instead, he stopped.
He remembered Pastor Nash telling him that becoming a husband and father wouldn't mean he would always know what to do.
So Daniel took a breath.
“Ethan, I'm not asking you to do everything I say.”
Ethan looked at the floor.
“But when your mom or I give you a reasonable instruction, you need to listen.”
Ethan didn't answer.
“Clean your room.”
Ethan walked inside.
“And please pick up the books instead of throwing things under the bed.”
Ethan turned around.
“I don't throw things under the bed.”
Daniel looked at the backpack.
Ethan followed his eyes.
“Okay.”
Daniel almost smiled.
Almost.
“Clean it.”
Ethan shut the door.
Daniel stood in the hallway.
From behind the door came a muffled voice.
“This is stupid.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Fatherhood.
Apparently the inheritance included this too.
Rachel found Daniel in the kitchen.
“You look troubled.”
“I've been rejected.”
Rachel stopped.
“By whom?”
“Your son.”
She smiled.
“Our son when he's behaving.”
Daniel pointed toward the hallway.
“He asked why he has to do everything I say.”
Rachel tried not to laugh.
“Don't.”
“I'm not.”
“You're smiling.”
“I'm supporting you.”
“That doesn't look like support.”
Rachel walked over and kissed his cheek.
“Better?”
“A little.”
She poured herself some water.
“What happened?”
Daniel explained.
When he finished, Rachel nodded.
“You handled it fine.”
“I wanted to say more.”
“But you didn't.”
“No.”
“Good.”
Daniel leaned against the counter.
“I'm still figuring this out.”
“So is Ethan.”
Daniel nodded.
“I know.”
Rachel looked toward the hallway.
“He's testing something.”
“What?”
“Whether anything has really changed.”
Daniel looked at her.
Rachel continued.
“He loves you. He calls you Dad. He wants you to adopt him.”
Daniel listened.
“But now he's discovering that having a dad doesn't only mean having somebody who plays with him, helps with homework, and loves him.”
“It also means somebody tells him to clean his room.”
Rachel smiled.
“Unfortunately.”
Daniel thought about it.
“So what do I do?”
“Keep loving him.”
“That's it?”
“And don't let him get away with being disrespectful.”
Daniel smiled.
“There it is.”
Rachel laughed.
“Love doesn't mean pretending wrong behavior is right.”
Daniel became quiet.
Something about the sentence stayed with him.
Love doesn't mean pretending wrong behavior is right.
He didn't know why yet.
But he knew enough by now to recognize when something was beginning to connect.
Dinner was quieter than usual.
Lily talked enough for everyone.
She explained in great detail something Sadie had done in the backyard.
Daniel wasn't entirely sure what had happened, but apparently it involved a stick, a bird, and Lily falling down.
Sadie was declared innocent.
Ethan barely spoke.
After dinner, he disappeared into his room again.
Later, Daniel walked past and noticed the door open.
The room was clean.
Mostly.
Daniel knocked on the doorframe.
“Looks good.”
Ethan was sitting on the bed.
“Thanks.”
Daniel started to leave.
“Dad?”
Daniel turned.
“Yeah?”
Ethan looked down.
“Are you mad at me?”
Daniel leaned against the doorframe.
“I didn't like the way you talked to me.”
Ethan nodded.
“I know.”
“But I'm not standing here angry at you.”
Ethan picked at the edge of his blanket.
“Okay.”
Daniel could tell there was more.
“What is it?”
Ethan hesitated.
Then asked quietly,
“Are you still going to adopt us?”
Daniel froze.
Of all the questions he expected, that wasn't one of them.
He walked into the room and sat beside Ethan.
“Look at me.”
Ethan did.
“Why would you ask that?”
Ethan shrugged.
“Because I got in trouble.”
Daniel stared at him.
Suddenly Rachel's words from the kitchen came back.
He's testing something.
Daniel softened his voice.
“Ethan, getting in trouble doesn't make you stop being part of this family.”
Ethan listened.
“You disobeyed.”
Ethan nodded.
“You were disrespectful.”
Another nod.
“And we're going to deal with those things when they happen.”
Ethan looked worried.
Daniel continued.
“But none of that made me stop loving you.”
Ethan looked at him.
“And it didn't make me stop wanting you.”
The boy's eyes changed.
Daniel felt his own throat tighten.
“Do you understand?”
“I think so.”
Daniel put an arm around him.
“I'm not adopting you because you've been good enough.”
Ethan leaned against him.
“And you're not going to lose me every time you make a mistake.”
For several moments they sat quietly.
Then Ethan said,
“I'm sorry.”
Daniel squeezed his shoulder.
“I forgive you.”
Ethan looked around the room.
“I cleaned it.”
“I noticed.”
“Even under the bed.”
Daniel raised an eyebrow.
“Really?”
Ethan nodded.
Daniel bent down and looked.
There were three socks, a toy car, a pencil, and the missing shoe.
Daniel sat back up.
Ethan smiled.
“I was going to get those.”
Daniel stared at him.
“When?”
Ethan thought.
“Later?”
Daniel laughed.
“All right. Finish it.”
Ethan jumped from the bed.
Daniel stood.
As he reached the doorway, Ethan called after him.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“You really still want to adopt me?”
Daniel turned.
“Yes.”
Ethan smiled.
“Okay.”
Daniel walked into the hallway.
But he didn't move.
He stood there thinking about what he had just said.
I'm not adopting you because you've been good enough.
And then another thought came.
Daniel turned toward the kitchen.
“Rachel?”
Rachel was at the table with the Bible and their notebook.
Daniel walked in quickly.
Rachel looked up.
“What happened?”
“I think I found another one.”
She smiled.
“Preposition?”
“Maybe.”
Daniel sat down.
“What are you looking at?”
“Ephesians.”
Daniel reached for his Bible.
“What chapter?”
“One.”
He opened it.
Rachel watched him.
“You're doing that thing again.”
“What thing?”
“The thing where you look like you've forgotten there's anybody else in the room.”
Daniel ignored her.
He found the passage.
Then stopped.
“Here.”
Rachel leaned closer.
Daniel read slowly.
“To the praise of the glory of His grace, by which He made us accepted in the Beloved.”
He looked at Rachel.
“Accepted.”
Rachel read it again.
“He made us accepted.”
Daniel nodded.
“In the Beloved.”
Rachel looked at him.
“There it is.”
Daniel pointed at the page.
“I've spent most of my life trying to get God to accept me.”
Rachel's expression softened.
“I thought if I did enough right things, maybe He'd be pleased with me.”
He paused.
“And whenever I messed up, I felt like I had to work my way back.”
Rachel listened.
Daniel looked toward Ethan's room.
“Ethan just asked if I still wanted to adopt him because he got in trouble.”
Rachel's face changed.
“He asked that?”
“Yeah.”
Daniel looked again at Ephesians.
“I told him I wasn't adopting him because he'd been good enough.”
Rachel understood.
“And then you heard yourself.”
“Very clearly.”
Rachel reached for the notebook.
She turned to the section marked:
IN HIM
Then she wrote:
Accepted in the Beloved — Ephesians 1:6
Daniel stared at the words.
“Accepted.”
Rachel nodded.
“But we need to understand what that means.”
Daniel smiled.
“I know.”
“Context.”
“I knew you were going to say that.”
Rachel smiled.
“Pastor Nash is rubbing off on me.”
“Somebody has to keep me out of trouble.”
Rachel looked toward Ethan's room.
“Apparently that's Sadie's job.”
Daniel laughed.
The next Wednesday, Daniel was waiting for Pastor Nash before Pastor Nash had even finished putting his Bible away.
Pastor Nash looked at him.
“What did you find?”
Daniel smiled.
“How do you know I found something?”
“You're standing there holding the notebook.”
Daniel looked at it.
“Good point.”
Pastor Nash sat down.
“Let's hear it.”
“Accepted in the Beloved.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“Ephesians one.”
Daniel opened his Bible.
“I know we're supposed to read it in context.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“I'm making progress.”
Daniel began reading the surrounding verses.
He read about God's grace.
Redemption.
Forgiveness.
The purpose and will of God.
Spiritual blessings in Christ.
Then he returned to verse six.
“He made us accepted in the Beloved.”
Daniel looked up.
“So what does accepted mean here?”
Pastor Nash thought for a moment.
“Start with what it doesn't mean.”
Daniel waited.
“It doesn't mean God approves of everything His children do.”
Daniel nodded.
“I figured.”
“You corrected Ethan this week, didn't you?”
Daniel stared.
“How did you know?”
“You have the look.”
“What look?”
“The father-who-just-discovered-children-don't-always-obey look.”
Daniel laughed.
Pastor Nash continued.
“You corrected him because you care about him.”
“Yes.”
“Did correcting him mean you rejected him?”
“No..”
“Did his disobedience make you stop wanting him?”
“No..”
“Did you stop loving him?”
“No..”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“Then you're beginning to see the difference.”
Daniel looked at his Bible.
“Correction isn't rejection.”
“No..”
Pastor Nash continued.
“God is a good Father. He corrects His children.”
Daniel listened.
“But your acceptance before God isn't based on pretending you never do anything wrong.”
Daniel nodded.
“It's based on Christ.”
“Exactly.”
Pastor Nash pointed to the verse.
“Accepted in the Beloved.”
Daniel read it again.
“In the Beloved.”
“Who is the Beloved?”
“Jesus.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“Your standing with God rests in Him.”
Daniel sat quietly.
Then he said,
“I think I've been putting myself outside the family every time I fail.”
Pastor Nash looked at him.
Daniel continued.
“I know I'm saved.”
“Yes.”
“But if I have a bad day . . . if I say something wrong . . . if I don't pray enough . . .”
He shook his head.
“Somewhere inside, I start thinking God must be disappointed enough to push me away.”
Pastor Nash leaned forward.
“Daniel, conviction draws you toward God.”
Daniel listened.
“Condemnation tells you to hide from Him.”
Daniel remembered another verse from their notebook.
Romans eight.
“There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“You're connecting the pages.”
Daniel smiled too.
“In Christ.”
“Yes.”
“Accepted in the Beloved.”
“Yes.”
“No condemnation in Christ Jesus.”
“Yes.”
Daniel shook his head.
“I really am going to need another notebook.”
That evening, Rachel sat alone at the kitchen table.
Daniel was helping Ethan with homework.
Lily was coloring.
Sadie was asleep beneath the table.
For once, there were no socks visible.
Rachel opened the notebook.
Her eyes stopped at the newest entry.
Accepted in the Beloved.
She read Ephesians 1:6 again.
Then again.
Daniel walked into the kitchen.
He noticed her expression.
“You okay?”
Rachel nodded.
Then shook her head.
Then smiled.
“I think it's my turn.”
Daniel sat beside her.
“What did you find?”
“The same thing you did.”
She touched the word.
“Accepted.”
Daniel waited.
Rachel looked down.
“When my marriage failed . . .”
She paused.
“When I found out what had happened . . . there were times I wondered what was wrong with me.”
Daniel didn't interrupt.
“I knew his choices were his choices.”
She swallowed.
“But rejection does something to you.”
Daniel reached for her hand.
Rachel continued.
“You start wondering whether you weren't enough.”
Daniel squeezed her hand.
“You were.”
Rachel smiled.
“I know.”
Then she looked at Ephesians.
“But that's not even the point.”
Daniel waited.
“My deepest acceptance can't come from whether another person chooses me.”
She looked at him.
“Not even you.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
Rachel touched the page again.
“I'm accepted in the Beloved.”
Daniel smiled.
“In Christ.”
“In Christ.”
For several moments they sat silently.
Then Rachel laughed softly.
“What?”
“I've known Jesus for years.”
Daniel smiled.
“And?”
“And I feel like I'm reading my Bible for the first time.”
Daniel nodded.
“I know the feeling.”
Rachel opened the notebook.
Under the verse she wrote:
My acceptance is in Christ, not in my performance or another person's approval.
Daniel read it.
Then picked up the pen.
Underneath, he wrote:
Correction does not mean rejection.
Rachel looked at him.
“That's not actually part of the verse.”
“I know.”
“Just checking.”
Daniel pointed at her.
“Pastor Nash is definitely rubbing off on you.”
Rachel smiled.
“Somebody has to keep you in context.”
From the hallway came Ethan's voice.
“Dad!”
Daniel looked toward the hallway.
“What?”
“Sadie's got my sock!”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
Rachel looked at Daniel.
Neither moved.
Ethan called again.
“Dad!”
Daniel stood.
He walked down the hallway and found Ethan pointing toward the living room.
Sadie was carrying a sock.
Daniel looked at Sadie.
Then at Ethan.
Then toward Ethan's bedroom.
“Ethan.”
“What?”
“Is your room still clean?”
Ethan hesitated.
Daniel narrowed his eyes.
“Ethan.”
“Mostly.”
Daniel walked toward the bedroom.
Ethan followed.
Daniel stopped in the doorway.
Three shirts were on the floor.
A pair of pants was hanging from the desk chair.
Two socks were near the bed.
Daniel looked back toward the living room.
Sadie was carrying one away.
Daniel nodded slowly.
“You know . . .”
Ethan waited.
“I think she really is trying to help you clean.”
Ethan looked at Sadie.
“That's what I've been saying.”
Daniel turned toward him.
“No.. you haven't.”
Ethan smiled.
Daniel pointed into the room.
“Clean it.”
Ethan sighed.
“Okay.”
Daniel started walking away.
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Do you still love me?”
Daniel stopped.
Then he heard the smile in Ethan's voice.
Daniel turned.
Ethan was grinning.
Daniel pointed at him.
“Don't push it.”
Ethan laughed.
Daniel smiled.
“Yes, buddy. I still love you.”
“Okay.”
Daniel continued down the hallway.
Sadie passed him going the opposite direction.
She was still carrying the sock.
Daniel watched her.
“Good girl.”
Sadie's tail wagged.
At least somebody was listening.
Later that night, Daniel and Rachel sat together with their Bibles open.
Their notebook lay between them.
The page contained two simple truths.
Accepted in the Beloved.
Correction does not mean rejection.
Daniel thought about Ethan.
A child could disobey and still be a child.
A father could correct and still love.
Belonging didn't mean behavior no longer mattered.
Love didn't call wrong things right.
But correction wasn't abandonment.
And Daniel was beginning to understand that he had spent years confusing the two.
Rachel had carried a different wound.
She had learned how easily human rejection could make someone question their worth.
But together they were discovering that their deepest acceptance wasn't rooted in their performance.
It wasn't rooted in another person's approval.
It wasn't rooted in whether everyone liked them.
It wasn't even rooted in whether they liked themselves that particular day.
Their acceptance rested somewhere far stronger.
In Christ.
Daniel closed the notebook.
“I think I'm beginning to understand something.”
Rachel looked at him.
“What?”
“The more we find out about who we are in Christ . . .”
He paused.
“The less Christianity feels like me trying to convince God to love me.”
Rachel smiled.
“And the more?”
Daniel looked at the Bible.
“The more it looks like learning to live from the love He's already shown us through Jesus.”
Rachel rested her head against his shoulder.
“I like that.”
Daniel smiled.
“So do I.”
Down the hallway everything was quiet.
Daniel looked toward Ethan's room.
“Do you think his room is still clean?”
Rachel didn't even look up.
“No..”
Daniel laughed.
“You didn't even think about it.”
“I've raised him longer than you have.”
From beneath the table came the soft sound of Sadie moving.
Daniel looked down.
She was gone.
A moment later she appeared from the hallway.
With a sock.
Daniel shook his head.
Rachel smiled.
“She has a ministry.”
Daniel nodded.
“Apparently.”
And once again, in an ordinary house filled with ordinary people, God was using ordinary moments to reveal extraordinary truth.
Daniel and Rachel were accepted.
Not because they had performed perfectly.
Not because they had earned God's approval.
Not because they never needed correction.
But because God had placed them where grace had already made provision.
In the Beloved.
In Christ.
Scripture for the Journey
Ephesians 1:6–7 (NKJV)
“To the praise of the glory of His grace, by which He made us accepted in the Beloved. In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace.”
The Light to Carry
Many believers understand that Jesus forgives sin, yet still live as though God's acceptance rises and falls with their daily performance.
When they do well, they feel close to God.
When they fail, they feel as though they have been pushed outside.
But Scripture points us somewhere stronger.
Accepted in the Beloved.
Our acceptance with God rests in Jesus Christ.
That does not mean our choices no longer matter.
It does not mean God approves of everything we do.
A loving Father corrects His children.
But correction is not rejection.
Conviction calls us back toward God.
Condemnation tells us to hide from Him.
And Romans 8:1 tells us:
“There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus.”
Rachel discovered another side of the same truth.
Human rejection can leave us wondering whether we are enough.
But our deepest worth and acceptance cannot rest in whether another person approves of us, chooses us, or rejects us.
Our foundation is Christ.
Daniel and Rachel were learning to ask a different question.
Not:
“Have I performed well enough for God to accept me today?”
But:
“What has God already said about me because I am in Christ?”
Ephesians gives the answer.
Accepted in the Beloved.
Forgiven.
Redeemed.
Loved.
Received.
And when the Father corrects His children, they do not have to run away.
They can run toward Him.
Because their place in the family rests not in their perfection . . .
but in Christ.