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.
In Christ — Journey 25: Chosen
The adoption is beginning to move from something Daniel and Rachel have talked and prayed about into something they are actually pursuing.
But a simple question from six-year-old Lily catches Daniel completely off guard:
“Did you pick us too?”
Daniel's answer is simple.
“I chose you too.”
Later, those words come back to him as he reads Ephesians chapter one:
“Just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world...” — Ephesians 1:4 (NKJV)
There it is again.
In Him.
As Daniel and Rachel continue discovering who they are In Christ, Daniel begins to understand that being chosen is not a reason for pride or superiority. It is another reason to worship.
Meanwhile, Rachel contacts the children's father, and he confirms that he is still willing to cooperate with Daniel adopting Ethan and Lily.
The family is taking another step toward becoming the Walkers not only in their hearts, but eventually in the eyes of the law.
And Sadie?
She is still carrying socks.
Apparently, it's part of her ministry. 😂
Journey 25 — Chosen
Listen To Journey 25
In Christ — Journey 25 — Chosen
The house was unusually quiet.
Daniel noticed immediately.
He stood in the kitchen listening.
No arguing.
No running feet.
No one calling his name.
And, perhaps most suspiciously, no reports involving Sadie and a missing sock.
Rachel walked into the room carrying her phone.
Daniel looked at her.
“Where are the kids?”
“Lily's coloring in her room.”
“And Ethan?”
“Reading.”
Daniel stared at her.
Rachel smiled.
“I checked. He's actually reading.”
“Should we be concerned?”
“Probably.”
Daniel poured another cup of coffee.
Rachel placed her phone on the counter.
“I think we need to talk about the adoption.”
Daniel immediately became serious.
“Okay.”
“I've been thinking about what we said. We don't need to rush this, but we do need to start taking the next steps.”
Daniel nodded.
“I agree.”
Rachel hesitated.
“I think the first thing I need to do is contact their father.”
Daniel looked at her.
Rachel had already told him that her former husband had once said he would allow Daniel to adopt Ethan and Lily when the time came.
But time had passed.
Circumstances changed.
Words spoken months ago still needed to be confirmed.
“You okay with that?” Daniel asked.
“Yes.”
She picked up her phone again.
“I just want to make sure he still feels the same way.”
Daniel reached across the counter and took her hand.
“We'll handle whatever comes.”
Rachel nodded.
“I know.”
Neither of them knew exactly what the process ahead would require.
There would be questions.
Paperwork.
Legal steps.
Probably more paperwork after the paperwork.
But Daniel knew something else.
The process wasn't going to create his love for Ethan and Lily.
That had already happened.
The legal process would simply begin recognizing something that had been growing in their hearts for a long time.
From the hallway came Lily's voice.
“Daniel?”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
Rachel raised an eyebrow.
“She didn't say Dad.”
“Apparently I've been demoted.”
Lily walked into the kitchen carrying a picture.
“Look.”
Daniel took it.
There were four people standing beside something that might have been a house.
A brown shape stood beside them.
Daniel pointed.
“Is that Sadie?”
“Yes.”
“She looks like a bear.”
“She's not a bear.”
“I know. I'm just saying she looks like one.”
Lily took the picture back.
“That's because I'm not done.”
Daniel nodded.
“That explains it.”
Lily looked at him.
Then at Rachel.
Then back at Daniel.
“Are you going to adopt us?”
Daniel glanced at Rachel.
“Yes. That's what we're working toward.”
Lily thought about that.
“You picked Mommy.”
Daniel smiled.
“Yes.”
“Did you pick us too?”
The question caught him completely off guard.
Rachel became still.
Daniel crouched so he was closer to Lily's height.
“What do you mean?”
“You wanted to marry Mommy.”
“Yes.”
“And me and Ethan came with her.”
Daniel almost smiled at the wording.
Lily continued.
“So did you pick us too?”
Daniel looked at her.
There were moments when children asked enormous questions without knowing how enormous they were.
“Yes, Lily.”
She waited.
Daniel continued.
“I chose you too.”
Her face brightened.
“Even when I'm bad?”
Daniel smiled.
“Even when you're difficult.”
Lily frowned.
“I'm not difficult.”
From somewhere down the hallway came Ethan's voice.
“Yes, you are.”
Lily turned.
“I am not!”
“Yes, you are!”
“Ethan!”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Rachel started laughing.
Daniel called toward the hallway.
“Ethan, you're not helping.”
“I was just telling the truth!”
Lily folded her arms.
“See? He's difficult.”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
Rachel was trying not to laugh.
Lily looked at them suspiciously.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Daniel said.
Daniel handed the picture back.
“Finish Sadie.”
Lily walked away.
“I am going to make her look like a dog. ”
Daniel watched her leave.
“That would be helpful.”
Later that afternoon, Daniel was sitting at the kitchen table with the Bible open.
The notebook lay beside it.
WHO WE ARE IN CHRIST
What had started as a few notes had become page after page of discovery.
In Him.
Through Him.
With Him.
Children.
Heirs.
Accepted in the Beloved.
Daniel turned back to Ephesians chapter one.
He had been there before.
Several times now.
But instead of beginning at verse six, he started earlier.
Verse three.
“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.”
Daniel stopped.
In Christ.
He smiled.
There it was again.
He continued.
“Just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before Him in love.”
Daniel stopped reading.
He stared at the page.
Then read it again.
“He chose us in Him.”
Daniel sat back.
“Rachel?”
No answer.
“Rachel?”
She appeared from the laundry room.
“What?”
“We skipped one.”
She looked at the Bible.
“What did we skip?”
Daniel pointed.
“Chosen.”
Rachel came closer.
Daniel read the verse aloud.
“Just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world.”
Rachel pulled out the chair beside him.
“In Him.”
“Exactly.”
She read the passage herself.
Daniel watched her.
“Lily asked me something this morning.”
“I remember.”
“She asked if I chose them.”
Rachel looked at him.
“I can't get that question out of my head.”
Daniel touched the page.
“And now I read this.”
Rachel looked again at the verse.
“Chosen in Him.”
Daniel nodded.
“I spent years thinking I was trying to find God.”
Rachel listened.
“But this doesn't sound like God reluctantly letting me in after I finally figured everything out.”
“No..”
Daniel looked at the words again.
“Before the foundation of the world.”
Rachel smiled softly.
“That's a little earlier than the convenience store.”
Daniel laughed.
“A little.”
Then his expression became serious again.
“What does all of this mean?”
Rachel smiled.
“You know what Pastor Nash is going to say.”
Daniel sighed.
“Context.”
“Context.”
“I liked it better when I didn't know that word.”
“No, you didn't.”
“No.. I didn't.”
Wednesday evening, Pastor Nash had barely sat down before Daniel opened the notebook.
Pastor Nash looked at Rachel.
“Another one?”
Rachel nodded.
“Another one.”
Pastor Nash looked at Daniel.
“What is it this time?”
“Chosen.”
Pastor Nash's expression changed slightly.
“Ephesians one?”
“Yes.”
Daniel opened his Bible.
“Verse four.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“Read it.”
Daniel read:
“Just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before Him in love.”
Daniel looked up.
“So what does it mean?”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“That's a small question.”
“I was afraid you'd say that.”
Rachel smiled.
Pastor Nash leaned back.
“First, let's do what we've been doing.”
Daniel nodded.
“Read the context.”
“Exactly.”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
“See what you've done?”
Rachel smiled.
“I'm helping.”
Daniel began reading from the beginning of Ephesians.
Spiritual blessings in Christ.
Chosen in Him.
Adoption through Jesus Christ.
Accepted in the Beloved.
Redemption in Him.
Forgiveness through His blood.
Again and again the words appeared.
In Christ.
In Him.
Through Jesus Christ.
In the Beloved.
Daniel finally looked up.
“This whole passage keeps pointing back to Jesus.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“That's important.”
“So when it says chosen . . .”
“Don't separate it from the words that follow.”
Daniel looked down.
“In Him.”
“Yes.”
Pastor Nash continued.
“Christians have spent a long time discussing everything contained in words like chosen and predestined.”
Daniel waited.
“And there are sincere believers who understand some of those questions differently.”
Rachel nodded.
Pastor Nash pointed toward Daniel's Bible.
“But before you turn this into an argument about everything people disagree about, make sure you don't miss what Paul clearly keeps putting in front of you.”
Daniel looked down again.
“Christ.”
“Christ.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“Paul isn't trying to make you impressed with yourself.”
Daniel smiled.
“That would be difficult.”
Rachel bumped his arm.
Pastor Nash continued.
“He is showing you the greatness of what God has accomplished in Christ.”
Daniel became quiet.
“Chosen in Him.”
“Yes.”
“Accepted in the Beloved.”
“Yes.”
“Redemption in Him.”
“Yes.”
“Adoption through Jesus Christ.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“You're connecting the pages again.”
Daniel looked at the notebook.
“So chosen isn't something for me to brag about.”
“No..”
Pastor Nash leaned forward.
“If understanding that you are chosen makes you think you're better than somebody else, you've missed the heart of the passage.”
Daniel listened carefully.
“It should make you worship.”
That landed.
Daniel looked back at Ephesians.
“Because it's about what God did.”
“Exactly.”
“Not what I did.”
“Exactly.”
Daniel smiled.
“I think I'm beginning to see why Paul starts the passage with ‘Blessed be the God and Father.’”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“Now you're reading the passage instead of collecting words.”
Daniel closed his eyes briefly.
“That hurt.”
Rachel laughed.
Pastor Nash smiled.
“You'll recover.”
On the drive home, Daniel was quiet.
Rachel noticed.
“You're thinking.”
“Yeah.”
“About what?”
“Lily.”
Rachel waited.
“When she asked if I chose her.”
Rachel nodded.
Daniel kept his eyes on the road.
“I didn't choose perfect children.”
Rachel smiled.
“You've seen Ethan's room.”
“Exactly.”
“And you certainly didn't choose a perfect wife.”
Daniel glanced at her.
“Rachel.”
“I'm serious.”
“So am I.”
She reached over and touched his arm.
“You chose to love a real family.”
Daniel was quiet.
Rachel continued.
“Two children with their own personalities.”
“Definitely.”
“Their own fears.”
“Yes.”
“Their own history.”
Daniel nodded.
“And a woman who came with her own history too.”
Daniel reached over and took her hand.
“I didn't marry your history.”
Rachel looked at him.
“I married you.”
She smiled.
“I know.”
Daniel squeezed her hand.
“And I didn't marry you and tolerate Ethan and Lily.”
Rachel's eyes became moist.
“I know that too.”
“They weren't baggage.”
“No..”
“They were part of you. And somewhere along the way, they became part of me.”
Rachel looked out the window for a moment.
Then back at him.
“That's why I waited to tell you their father was willing.”
Daniel nodded.
“I understand that now.”
“I needed you to choose them without knowing there was an easy door open.”
Daniel thought about Lily's question again.
Did you pick us too?
“Yes,” he said quietly.
Rachel looked at him.
“What?”
“I did.”
She understood.
Two days later, Rachel made the call.
Daniel didn't sit beside her.
He deliberately gave her space.
This was a conversation between Rachel and the father of her children.
Daniel went into the garage and found something to do.
Then he found something else to do.
Then he rearranged several things that did not need rearranging.
Finally, the door opened.
Rachel stepped into the garage.
Daniel immediately looked at her.
“Well?”
Rachel walked toward him.
“He meant what he said.”
Daniel didn't speak.
“He's still willing to cooperate with the adoption.”
Daniel exhaled.
He hadn't realized how tightly he'd been holding his breath.
Rachel continued.
“We still need to find out exactly what has to happen. There will be legal steps. Papers. Whatever the court requires.”
Daniel nodded.
“But he's willing.”
“Yes.”
Daniel sat down on the edge of a workbench.
“This is really happening.”
Rachel smiled.
“It's really happening.”
Daniel looked toward the door leading into the house.
“Ethan Walker.”
Rachel smiled.
“Eventually.”
“Lily Walker.”
“Eventually.”
Daniel looked at her.
“Rachel Walker.”
She laughed.
“That one already happened.”
“I know. I just like saying it.”
Rachel shook her head.
Daniel stood and wrapped his arms around her.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Daniel whispered,
“Thank You, Lord.”
Rachel answered,
“Amen.”
They didn't tell the children everything immediately.
There were still details they didn't know themselves.
But that evening, Daniel and Rachel sat with Ethan and Lily in the living room.
Sadie lay on the floor between them.
Daniel looked at the children.
“Your mom and I have been taking some more steps about the adoption.”
Ethan sat forward.
“What steps?”
“We're still learning what needs to happen.”
Rachel continued.
“But we talked with your father.”
Ethan became serious.
“And?”
Rachel smiled.
“He's still willing to cooperate.”
Ethan looked at Daniel.
“So you can adopt us?”
Daniel answered carefully.
“It means we can keep moving forward. We still have things to do before anything is final.”
Ethan nodded.
Lily had been listening quietly.
That alone was unusual.
Then she asked,
“So you're really going to adopt us?”
Daniel smiled.
“That's the plan.”
Lily thought about it.
Then she smiled.
“Then you really did pick us.”
Daniel felt the same tug in his heart he'd felt that morning.
“Yeah, Lily.”
He looked at Ethan too.
“I really did.”
Ethan smiled.
Lily leaned against Daniel.
Then Ethan asked,
“If we become Walkers, does Lily have to clean her room too?”
Lily immediately sat up.
“My room is clean!”
Ethan laughed.
“Because Sadie keeps taking everything out of it.”
“She does not!”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
Rachel looked at Daniel.
From the hallway came the sound of something falling.
Everyone turned.
A few seconds later, Sadie appeared.
She had a sock.
Lily pointed.
“That's Ethan's!”
Ethan stared at the sock.
“No, it's not!”
Lily looked victorious.
“See? She doesn't clean my room.”
Daniel looked at the sock in Sadie's mouth.
“Apparently she's still working on Ethan's.”
Ethan groaned.
Rachel started laughing
Later, after the children were asleep, Daniel opened the notebook.
Under IN HIM, he wrote:
Chosen in Him — Ephesians 1:4
Rachel sat beside him.
Daniel looked at the words.
“There's something different about this one.”
“What?”
Daniel thought.
“Accepted made me realize I don't have to keep earning my place.”
Rachel nodded.
“Children and heirs showed us we belong.”
“Yes.”
He touched the newest entry.
“But chosen . . .”
He paused.
“It makes me realize God's work in Christ wasn't some emergency plan.”
Rachel looked at him.
Daniel continued.
“Jesus wasn't God's response after everything went wrong.”
“No..”
“This was in God's heart before I ever existed.”
Rachel looked down at Ephesians.
“Before the foundation of the world.”
Daniel nodded.
“That makes me feel very small.”
Rachel smiled.
“In a good way?”
“In a very good way.”
He looked at the notebook again.
“Because this isn't really the story of how important I am.”
Rachel waited.
“It's the story of how great He is.”
Rachel smiled.
“Now that sounds like something Pastor Nash would approve of.”
Daniel closed the notebook.
“Don't tell him.”
“Why?”
“He'll think he's getting through to me.”
Rachel laughed.
Daniel leaned back.
His thoughts returned to Lily.
Did you pick us too?
Human adoption was not a perfect picture of salvation.
Daniel knew that.
He had chosen to embrace Ethan and Lily as part of the family he was building with Rachel.
But God's work in Christ was infinitely greater.
Before Daniel knew God...
before Daniel understood salvation...
before Daniel had spent twenty-five years knowing about God without truly knowing Him...
God's purpose in Christ was already established.
Daniel wasn't looking at a God who had reluctantly made room for him.
He was looking at the God and Father of the Lord Jesus Christ, whose plan of redemption had always centered upon His Son.
Daniel opened the Bible once more.
He read the words quietly.
“He chose us in Him.”
Then he smiled.
Not pride.
Not superiority.
Not a reason to look down on anyone.
A reason to worship.
Daniel bowed his head.
“Father, thank You.”
Rachel reached for his hand.
“Thank You for what You've done for us in Jesus.”
Daniel continued.
“Help us never make this about ourselves.”
Rachel whispered,
“Amen.”
“Help us understand who we are in Christ so we can live like it's true.”
“Amen.”
“And help Ethan clean his room.”
Rachel opened her eyes.
“Daniel.”
He smiled.
“What?”
She shook her head.
From somewhere down the hallway came a soft thump.
Daniel and Rachel looked at each other.
Then Sadie appeared.
Another sock.
Daniel stared at her.
Rachel whispered,
“She's very committed to her calling.”
Daniel nodded.
“Apparently.”
And in a home where God was still teaching them through Bibles, notebooks, children, marriage, adoption...
and occasionally socks...
another truth had come off the page.
They were learning who they were.
But every discovery was pointing them toward Someone greater.
The One in whom every blessing was found.
The One through whom redemption had come.
The One in whom they had been accepted.
And the One in whom they had been chosen.
Jesus Christ.
Scripture for the Journey
Ephesians 1:3–4 (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, just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before Him in love.”
The Light to Carry
The words chosen in Him can lead to deep questions.
Christians have discussed those questions for generations, and sincere believers do not always understand every part of them in exactly the same way.
But we should not allow the questions to cause us to miss what Ephesians chapter one repeatedly places before us:
Jesus Christ.
In Christ.
In Him.
Through Jesus Christ.
In the Beloved.
Again and again, the passage points away from human achievement and toward what God has accomplished through His Son.
Being chosen is not a reason for pride.
It is a reason for worship.
Daniel once thought Christianity was primarily about what he needed to do for God.
Now he was discovering what God had already done in Christ.
He was not accepted because he performed perfectly.
He was not made a child because he earned his place.
He was not an heir because he deserved an inheritance.
And being chosen did not make him better than someone else.
Every truth pointed him back to grace.
Lily's simple question helped Daniel see something else.
“Did you pick us too?”
Daniel chose to love a real family—not perfect people without histories, weaknesses, or difficult days.
But even that human choice was only a small and imperfect illustration of something far greater.
God's purpose in Christ was not an afterthought.
Before Daniel ever understood...
before he ever began searching...
before he ever opened the notebook titled Who We Are In Christ...
God's plan of redemption centered upon Jesus Christ.
So when we discover that Scripture says we are chosen in Him, our response should not be:
“Look how important I am.”
It should be:
“Look how great He is.”
And then, like Daniel and Rachel, we can bow our heads and say:
Father, thank You for what You have done for us in Jesus. Help us understand who we are in Christ so that we will live like it is true.
Not merely hearers.
But doers of the Word.
All because of Him.
In Christ.
In Christ — Journey 26 — Redeemed
The day the Walker family has prayed and waited for has arrived.
Daniel, Rachel, Ethan, and Lily enter the courthouse as a family already joined by love and commitment. They leave with something new: the law has finally recognized what has already been growing in their hearts.
Ethan Walker. Lily Walker.
But while celebrating the adoption, Daniel discovers another truth in Ephesians:
“In Him we have redemption through His blood...” — Ephesians 1:7
The adoption gives Daniel a picture of belonging and changed standing, but Pastor Nash reminds him that it is only an illustration. Daniel did not redeem Ethan and Lily.
Jesus Christ redeemed us—and the price was His blood.
As Daniel and Rachel continue discovering who they are In Christ, they realize that their past remains part of their story, but it no longer has the authority to define their identity.
Chosen. Accepted. Children. Heirs. Redeemed. Forgiven.
And somewhere along the way, Sadie finally receives official recognition as Sadie Walker—although Lily insists she already was. 🐕🧦
Listen To Journey 26
In Christ — Journey 26 — Redeemed
Daniel Walker had checked the folder three times.
Rachel had watched him do it twice.
The third time, she finally said something.
“Daniel.”
He looked up.
“What?”
“The papers are still there.”
“I know.”
“You checked them five minutes ago.”
“I was making sure.”
Rachel smiled.
“And five minutes before that?”
“I was also making sure.”
She walked over and took the folder from his hands.
“I'm going to hold these.”
Daniel stared at her.
“You don't trust me?”
“I trust you completely.”
She tucked the folder under her arm.
“I don't trust whatever is happening to you this morning.”
Daniel laughed.
“Fair enough.”
From the hallway came Lily's voice.
“Mom!”
Rachel called back.
“What?”
“Do I have to wear these shoes?”
“Yes.”
“They hurt.”
“You haven't put them on yet.”
There was a pause.
“Oh.”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
“Strong opening argument.”
“She may have a future in law.”
Lily appeared a few moments later wearing the shoes.
Ethan followed behind her.
He was quieter than usual.
Daniel noticed.
“You okay, buddy?”
Ethan nodded.
“Yeah.”
Daniel waited.
Ethan looked at the folder Rachel was carrying.
“That's all the adoption stuff?”
“Some of it,” Rachel said.
Ethan nodded.
Then he looked at Daniel.
“After today, nobody can change it, right?”
Daniel's smile disappeared.
There was more in the question than paperwork.
Daniel crouched beside him.
“Tell me what you're asking.”
Ethan shrugged.
“I don't know.”
Daniel waited.
Ethan finally said,
“You're already my dad.”
Daniel nodded.
“But after today . . . it's official?”
“Yes.”
“And nobody can just decide you're not anymore?”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
Her eyes were already filling with tears.
Daniel turned back to Ethan.
“Ethan, listen to me.”
The boy looked at him.
“A piece of paper didn't make me love you.”
“I know.”
“And a judge isn't going to make me start being your dad today.”
Ethan nodded.
“I know that too.”
“But yes. What we're doing today matters. When everything is finalized, I'll legally be your father.”
Ethan was quiet.
Then he smiled slightly.
“So the papers finally catch up?”
Daniel smiled.
“Yeah.”
He put his hand on Ethan's shoulder.
“I think that's exactly what's happening.”
Lily had been listening.
“Do I get papers too?”
Rachel laughed.
“Yes, Lily.”
“Do mine have my new name?”
“Eventually the records will.”
Lily smiled.
“Lily Walker.”
Daniel smiled.
“That sounds pretty good.”
She looked at him.
“Do I have to learn how to be a Walker?”
Daniel blinked.
“What do you mean?”
“I don't know. I've never been one before.”
Ethan rolled his eyes.
“You already live with us.”
Lily looked at him.
“You've never been one either.”
Ethan stopped.
Daniel tried not to laugh.
Rachel whispered,
“She has a point.”
Daniel nodded.
“She does.”
He looked at both children.
“I don't think there's a test.”
Lily looked relieved.
“Good.”
Daniel stood.
“Everybody ready?”
Rachel held up the folder.
“I am.”
Daniel reached for it.
Rachel pulled it away.
“No..”
“I was just checking.”
“I know.”
The courthouse wasn't anything like Lily expected.
She had apparently imagined something much larger.
“Where's the big chair?”
Rachel looked at her.
“What big chair?”
“For the judge.”
Daniel leaned toward Rachel.
“I think she's been watching television.”
Rachel nodded.
“Apparently.”
The process itself was quieter than Daniel had imagined.
There had already been paperwork, conversations, signatures, and required steps leading to this day.
Rachel's former husband had followed through on what he had previously said he would do and cooperated with the process.
Now Daniel, Rachel, Ethan, and Lily stood together for the final step.
The judge spoke with Daniel and Rachel.
Then with the children.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing theatrical.
Just careful questions about something enormously important.
Daniel looked at Ethan.
Then Lily.
Then Rachel.
His family.
Not almost his family.
Not someday his family.
His family.
The judge looked at Ethan.
“You understand what Daniel is asking the court to do today?”
Ethan nodded.
“Yes.”
“And this is something you want?”
Ethan looked at Daniel.
“Yes.”
Then the judge spoke to Lily.
“And how about you?”
Lily nodded enthusiastically.
“Yes.”
The judge smiled.
“You seem pretty certain.”
“I already picked him.”
Daniel lowered his head.
Rachel covered her mouth.
Ethan whispered,
“That's not how it happened.”
Lily whispered back,
“I know.”
The judge continued.
After the remaining formalities were completed, the words Daniel had been waiting to hear finally came.
The adoption was approved.
Daniel Walker was now legally the father of Ethan and Lily.
And in time, their records would carry the family name:
Ethan Walker.
Lily Walker.
Daniel thought he was prepared for the moment.
He wasn't.
Rachel reached for his hand.
Daniel squeezed hers.
Ethan looked at him.
Daniel couldn't speak immediately.
Ethan smiled.
“Dad?”
Daniel swallowed.
“Yeah?”
“The papers know now.”
Daniel laughed through the tears he had been trying unsuccessfully to hide.
“Yeah, buddy.”
He pulled Ethan close.
“The papers know.”
Lily joined them without being invited.
Then Rachel did too.
For a moment, four Walkers stood together in the middle of a courthouse hallway.
And nobody cared who was watching.
They celebrated simply.
Lunch.
Ice cream.
Lily insisted that becoming a Walker required chocolate.
Nobody knew where that rule came from.
Daniel decided not to challenge it.
By the time they returned home, Lily had said “Lily Walker” approximately twenty-seven times.
Possibly more.
She ran into the house.
“Sadie!”
Sadie appeared immediately.
Lily dropped to her knees.
“I'm Lily Walker now!”
Sadie wagged her tail.
Ethan walked past them.
“She doesn't know what you're saying.”
Lily frowned.
“Yes, she does.”
Daniel closed the door behind them.
Rachel leaned against him.
“Quite a day.”
Daniel nodded.
“Yeah.”
Lily suddenly turned around.
“What's Sadie's last name?”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
Rachel looked at Daniel.
Ethan stopped walking.
Daniel said,
“I suppose she's Sadie Walker.”
Lily looked offended.
“She already was.”
Daniel opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
Rachel laughed.
“I wouldn't argue with her today.”
Daniel nodded.
“Good advice.”
Sadie disappeared down the hallway.
A few moments later she returned carrying a sock.
Ethan pointed.
“That's mine!”
Daniel sighed.
Apparently some things required no court proceedings at all.
That evening, the house finally settled down.
Daniel sat at the kitchen table.
The Bible was open.
The notebook beside it.
WHO WE ARE IN CHRIST
Rachel walked into the room.
“I wondered how long it would take.”
Daniel looked up.
“For what?”
“For you to end up back here.”
He smiled.
“I've been thinking.”
“I know.”
Daniel looked down at Ephesians chapter one.
“We've been reading this same chapter for a while.”
“And we're still not through it.”
“No..”
He pointed to verse seven.
“We read this when we were talking about being accepted.”
Rachel sat beside him.
Daniel read aloud.
“In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace.”
Rachel looked at him.
“In Him.”
Daniel nodded.
“There it is.”
“What caught you?”
“One word.”
Rachel smiled.
“Here we go again.”
Daniel pointed.
“Redemption.”
Rachel read the verse again.
“In Him we have redemption.”
Daniel nodded.
“Have.”
Rachel looked at him.
“What?”
“It doesn't say we're trying to get it.”
She looked back at the verse.
“It says we have it.”
“In Him.”
Daniel reached for the notebook.
Under IN HIM, he wrote:
We have redemption — Ephesians 1:7
Then beneath it:
The forgiveness of sins.
Daniel sat back.
“What exactly is redemption?”
Rachel smiled.
“Sounds like a Pastor Nash question.”
Daniel looked at her.
“I was afraid of that.”
Wednesday evening, Pastor Nash looked at the Walker family as they came into the church.
“All four Walkers.”
Lily smiled.
“Five.”
Pastor Nash looked confused.
Lily pointed toward the door.
“Sadie.”
Daniel shook his head.
“She's at home.”
“She is still a Walker.”
Pastor Nash looked at Daniel.
Daniel shrugged.
“I've learned not to argue.”
Later, after the children were occupied, Daniel opened his Bible with Pastor Nash.
“Ephesians again?”
Daniel nodded.
“Verse seven.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“What did you find?”
“Redemption.”
Pastor Nash nodded slowly.
“That's a good word to stop on.”
Daniel read the verse.
“In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace.”
Then he looked at Pastor Nash.
“What does redemption really mean?”
Pastor Nash thought for a moment.
“One of the ideas Scripture gives us in redemption is release through the payment of a price.”
Daniel listened.
“To redeem is connected with being set free because a price has been paid.”
Daniel looked at the verse.
“Through His blood.”
“Yes.”
Daniel became quiet.
Pastor Nash continued.
“Be careful with the comparison you're probably making.”
Daniel smiled.
“You know about the adoption.”
“I do.”
“I was thinking about today.”
“I thought you might be.”
Pastor Nash leaned forward.
“Your adoption of Ethan and Lily can help you understand things like belonging, family, commitment, and a changed legal relationship.”
Daniel nodded.
“But don't make the illustration equal to what Christ has done.”
“No..”
“You didn't redeem Ethan and Lily in the biblical sense.”
Daniel nodded.
“Jesus redeemed us.”
“Yes.”
“And the price was His blood.”
Pastor Nash pointed toward the verse.
“That's what Paul says.”
Daniel stared at the words.
“So salvation is free to me.”
“Yes.”
“But not because it cost nothing.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“No..”
He pointed again to the Bible.
“It is free to you because Jesus paid the price.”
Daniel didn't answer.
He simply looked at the verse.
Pastor Nash allowed the silence.
Finally Daniel said,
“I don't think I've thought enough about that.”
“Most of us haven't.”
Daniel read again.
“In Him we have redemption through His blood.”
He paused.
“Not through my good behavior.”
“No..”
“Not because I finally became religious enough.”
“No..”
“Not because I cleaned the church.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“Definitely not.”
Daniel looked at him.
“That mop didn't save me?”
“I'm afraid not.”
Daniel laughed.
Then his expression became serious again.
“Jesus paid for my redemption.”
“Yes.”
Daniel looked at the next words.
“And forgiveness.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“According to the riches of His grace.”
Daniel closed his eyes briefly.
“There's that grace again.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“You're going to keep finding it.”
That night, Daniel stood in Ethan's doorway.
The room was reasonably clean.
That alone felt miraculous.
Ethan was putting away some of the things he'd taken with him that morning.
Daniel leaned against the doorframe.
“Ethan Walker.”
Ethan looked over.
“You're going to keep saying that, aren't you?”
“Probably.”
Ethan smiled.
“It's weird.”
“Bad weird?”
“No..”
Ethan thought about it.
“Just new.”
Daniel nodded.
“I understand that.”
Ethan sat on the bed.
“I'm still me.”
Daniel looked at him.
“Yes.”
“I mean, I have a different last name now. But I'm still me.”
Daniel walked into the room.
“Absolutely.”
Ethan looked thoughtful.
“My old name wasn't bad.”
“No..”
“And what happened before doesn't disappear.”
Daniel sat beside him.
“No.”
Ethan looked at him.
“So what changed?”
Daniel smiled.
“You gained something.”
“What?”
Daniel put an arm around him.
“A legal father who is going to remind you to clean this room for the rest of your childhood.”
Ethan groaned.
“I knew there was a catch.”
Daniel laughed.
Then he became serious.
“You didn't lose your story today, Ethan.”
Ethan listened.
“Everything that brought you here is still part of your story.”
Daniel paused.
“But it doesn't have to determine where your story goes next.”
Ethan nodded slowly.
“I like Walker.”
Daniel smiled.
“Me too.”
Later, Daniel told Rachel about the conversation.
She listened quietly.
“I almost said something earlier today,” Daniel said.
“What?”
“That their old life was behind them now.”
Rachel nodded.
“But I stopped.”
“Why?”
“Because it sounded like I was saying their history disappeared.”
Rachel took his hand.
“It didn't.”
“No..”
“They didn't stop being themselves when the judge signed the papers.”
Daniel nodded.
“They gained something.”
Rachel smiled.
“Exactly.”
Daniel looked toward the children's rooms.
“A new name.”
“A legal father.”
“A family relationship that is now recognized in a new way.”
Daniel thought about Ephesians again.
“That's what made me think about redemption.”
Rachel waited.
“I know the adoption isn't the same thing.”
“No..”
“But Pastor Nash said redemption means a price was paid for release.”
Rachel nodded.
Daniel's voice softened.
“Jesus paid it.”
Rachel squeezed his hand.
“Yes.”
Daniel looked at her.
“I think sometimes when we say salvation is free, I hear cheap.”
Rachel shook her head.
“It wasn't cheap.”
“No.”
Daniel looked toward the Bible on the table.
“It cost Him everything.”
They sat quietly.
Then Rachel said,
“And becoming a new creation doesn't mean pretending the past never happened.”
Daniel looked at her.
She continued.
“My past happened.”
“Yes.”
“Your past happened.”
“Yes.”
“The children's past happened.”
Daniel nodded.
“But none of those things have the right to tell us who we are now.”
Daniel smiled.
“In Christ.”
Rachel smiled.
“In Christ.”
Daniel returned to the notebook.
Under the words We have redemption, he added another sentence.
My past is part of my story, but it does not define my identity. Christ does.
Rachel read it.
“I like that.”
Daniel handed her the pen.
“Your turn.”
Rachel thought for a moment.
Then she wrote:
Redemption was free to me because Jesus paid the price.
Daniel read it twice.
“That one stays.”
Rachel smiled.
“They all stay.”
From the hallway came Lily's voice.
“Dad!”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
“Which Dad?”
Rachel laughed.
“I think there's only one in the house.”
Daniel called,
“What?”
“Sadie has Ethan's sock!”
From Ethan's room:
“I know!”
Daniel waited.
Ethan called again.
“I gave it to her!”
Daniel and Rachel looked at each other.
Daniel stood.
“This I have to see.”
They walked into the hallway.
Ethan was standing outside his room.
Sadie sat proudly beside him with a sock in her mouth.
Lily pointed.
“He gave it to her.”
Daniel looked at Ethan.
“Why?”
Ethan shrugged.
“She works hard.”
Rachel covered her mouth.
Daniel stared at Sadie.
After weeks of accusations, investigations, and unauthorized sock relocation, Sadie's ministry had finally received its first donation.
Daniel nodded solemnly.
“Well done.”
Lily smiled.
“I told you she was a Walker.”
No one argued.
Later that night, Daniel and Rachel sat together after the children were asleep.
The adoption papers were on the table.
Beside them was the open Bible.
Two documents.
Both spoke of changed standing.
But Daniel knew they were not equal.
One had been signed in a courthouse.
The other told of a redemption purchased by the blood of Jesus Christ.
Daniel touched Ephesians 1:7.
“In Him we have redemption.”
Rachel nodded.
“Have.”
Daniel smiled.
“I keep coming back to that.”
“Why?”
“Because so much of my Christian life used to feel like trying to become something.”
Rachel listened.
“Trying to become acceptable.”
“Trying to become good enough.”
“Trying to become someone God could use.”
Daniel looked down at the verse.
“But Paul keeps telling us what God has already done in Christ.”
Rachel nodded.
Daniel began counting quietly.
“Blessed in Christ.”
“Chosen in Him.”
“Adopted through Jesus Christ.”
“Accepted in the Beloved.”
“Redeemed in Him.”
“Forgiven.”
Rachel smiled.
“We definitely need another notebook.”
Daniel laughed.
Then he became quiet.
“Rachel?”
“Yeah?”
“I don't want us to just learn these.”
She looked at him.
“I want them to change us.”
Rachel nodded.
“Me too.”
Daniel looked toward the hallway where Ethan and Lily were sleeping.
“Today changed something legally for our family.”
“Yes.”
“But God's Word is changing the way I see everything.”
Rachel reached for his hand.
Daniel bowed his head.
“Father, thank You for Your Word.”
Rachel closed her eyes.
“Thank You for Jesus.”
Daniel continued.
“Thank You that redemption isn't something I have to earn.”
Rachel whispered,
“Amen.”
“Thank You that Jesus paid the price.”
“Amen.”
“Help us live like people who really believe what You have said about us.”
Rachel squeezed his hand.
“In Jesus' name.”
“Amen.”
Daniel opened his eyes.
On the table sat the papers declaring Ethan and Lily part of the Walker family.
But beside them was something greater.
The Word of God declaring what was true of those who were in Christ.
Redeemed.
Forgiven.
Accepted.
Children.
Heirs.
Chosen.
Not because they had earned it.
Not because their past had been perfect.
Not because they had finally become good enough.
But because of Jesus.
Daniel closed the notebook.
Another truth had come alive.
And tomorrow they would begin learning how to live it.
Scripture for the Journey
Ephesians 1:7 NKJV
“In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace.”
The Light to Carry
In Him we have redemption.
Notice the words Scripture uses.
It does not say that those who are in Christ are trying to purchase redemption.
It says:
We have redemption.
But redemption was not cheap.
Ephesians tells us the price:
“Through His blood.”
Salvation is freely received by grace, but that does not mean it cost nothing.
Jesus paid the price.
Daniel's adoption of Ethan and Lily gives us a human picture of belonging, love, commitment, and a changed legal relationship.
But human adoption is only an illustration.
Daniel did not redeem Ethan and Lily in the biblical sense.
Jesus Christ is our Redeemer.
Through Him we have forgiveness.
Through Him we have been brought near.
In Him we have redemption.
And becoming a new creation in Christ does not require pretending our past never happened.
The past may be part of our story.
But for the believer, the past no longer has the authority to define our identity.
Christ does.
2 Corinthians 5:17 NKJV tells us:
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation...”
There are those words again.
In Christ.
Daniel once spent his life trying to become someone God could accept.
Now the Word was showing him what God had already accomplished through Jesus.
Chosen in Him.
Accepted in the Beloved.
Redeemed in Him.
Forgiven according to the riches of His grace.
The question is beginning to change.
Not simply:
“What must I do to become good enough for God?”
But:
“What has God already done for me in Christ—and how should I live because it is true?”
That is where transformation begins.
The Word comes alive.
Our minds are renewed.
And we learn to live as the new creations God has made us to be.
In Christ.
In Christ — Journey 27: A New Creation
Daniel has spent months discovering what God has done for him In Christ. But one familiar verse opens an even deeper truth: God did not simply take the old Daniel and make him a little better.
He became a new creation.
A simple drawing from Lily—Sadie as a “butterfly dog”—starts Daniel thinking about transformation. Soon he is back in the Word, discovering the connection between the old man being crucified with Christ, walking in newness of life, and having his mind renewed by the truth of God’s Word.
The Gospel is far greater than self-improvement.
The old unregenerated man is not being taught how to become acceptable to God. In Christ, there is new life.
And as Daniel learns, becoming a new creation does not mean there is nothing left to learn. God’s Word renews our minds so that we begin to think and live according to what God has already made true of us.
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation...” — 2 Corinthians 5:17 NKJV
Not a repaired old creation.
A new creation.
In Christ.
Listen To Journey 27
In Christ — Journey 27 — A New Creation
Saturday morning had become one of Daniel's favorite times of the week.
There was nowhere they had to be.
No alarm.
No courthouse.
No adoption papers to check three times.
Just home.
Daniel sat at the kitchen table with his Bible, a cup of coffee, and the notebook that was becoming increasingly difficult to close.
Across the front Rachel had written:
WHO WE ARE IN CHRIST
Daniel smiled every time he saw it.
He opened to the latest page.
Chosen in Him.
Accepted in the Beloved.
Children and heirs.
Redeemed in Him.
Forgiven.
He read the words slowly.
A few months earlier, he wouldn't have known what most of them really meant.
Now each one carried a story.
A Scripture.
A discovery.
Daniel took a drink of coffee and turned to Second Corinthians.
He had been thinking about something Pastor Nash had said weeks earlier.
When Daniel had first come to Christ, everything had felt new.
But he hadn't understood why.
He found the verse.
Second Corinthians chapter five, verse seventeen.
He had read it before.
Probably many times.
But lately, familiar Scriptures had developed an annoying habit of becoming unfamiliar.
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 stopped.
There it was again.
In Christ.
He reached for his pen.
Then he stopped.
“New creation.”
He said the words again.
Not improved.
Not repaired.
New.
From the other room came Lily's voice.
“Dad!”
Daniel smiled.
He was getting very used to that word.
“What?”
“Can I have the tape?”
“What tape?”
“The tape.”
Daniel waited.
That apparently completed the explanation.
“Where are you?”
“In here.”
Daniel looked toward the living room.
“That narrows it down considerably.”
Rachel walked into the kitchen carrying laundry.
“She means the clear tape in the drawer.”
Daniel looked at her.
“How did you know that?”
“I've been her mother for six years.”
“That seems like an unfair advantage.”
Rachel smiled and continued down the hallway.
Daniel found the tape and carried it into the living room.
Lily was lying on the floor surrounded by crayons, paper, scissors, and what appeared to be several failed artistic experiments.
Sadie lay beside her.
Daniel handed Lily the tape.
“What are you making?”
“Sadie.”
Daniel looked at the picture.
It was definitely better than the bear from a few days earlier.
But something was different.
“Why does Sadie have wings?”
Lily kept coloring.
“She's a butterfly dog now.”
Daniel stared at the picture.
“A butterfly dog?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Lily finally looked at him.
“Because she changed.”
Daniel smiled.
“Of course she did.”
Lily held the picture up beside Sadie.
Sadie looked completely uninterested in her transformation.
Daniel studied the drawing.
“Does she still steal socks?”
From the hallway Ethan called,
“Yes!”
Lily frowned.
“She doesn't steal them.”
Ethan appeared.
“She had one of mine this morning.”
“She was helping.”
“She was under my bed.”
Lily looked at Daniel.
“She was looking for more.”
Daniel nodded solemnly.
“That sounds like ministry.”
Ethan groaned.
“You're encouraging her.”
Daniel looked again at Lily's drawing.
A dog with butterfly wings.
“She changed.”
Something about Lily's simple explanation stayed with him.
Daniel handed the picture back.
“That's pretty good, Lily.”
She smiled.
“I know.”
Daniel laughed and returned to the kitchen.
Rachel found him staring at Second Corinthians.
“What happened?”
Daniel looked up.
“Lily.”
Rachel stopped.
“Do I need to check on something?”
“No.. She's fine.”
“That answer usually means I definitely need to check.”
Daniel laughed.
“She drew Sadie with butterfly wings.”
Rachel stared at him.
“Of course she did.”
“She said Sadie's a butterfly dog now.”
Rachel set the laundry basket down.
“I see.”
“Because she changed.”
Rachel looked at Daniel.
Then at the Bible.
“And that sent you back here?”
Daniel nodded.
“Second Corinthians five seventeen.”
Rachel sat down.
Daniel read it to her.
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.”
Rachel looked at the verse.
“New creation.”
“That's what caught me.”
Daniel leaned back.
“I've been thinking about everything that's happened since I got saved.”
Rachel waited.
“I keep saying God changed my life.”
“He did.”
“I know. But I think I've been picturing it wrong.”
“How?”
Daniel searched for the words.
“Like God took the old Daniel and started fixing him.”
Rachel smiled slightly.
“There have been a few repairs.”
“I knew you were going to say that.”
She laughed.
Daniel pointed toward the living room.
“But that's what made me think about Lily's butterfly dog.”
Rachel raised an eyebrow.
“I can't believe I'm asking this, but how?”
“A caterpillar doesn't become a better caterpillar.”
Rachel smiled.
“No.”
“It becomes something different.”
“Metamorphosis.”
Daniel pointed at her.
“Exactly.”
Rachel looked again at the verse.
“So you're wondering whether that's what Paul means by new creation.”
“Something like that.”
Daniel became serious.
“I know I've changed. But I still have thoughts I shouldn't have. I still make mistakes. I still have things I'm learning.”
Rachel nodded.
“So how can the old things have passed away if I can still recognize so much of the old Daniel?”
Rachel thought for a moment.
“That sounds like a Pastor Nash question.”
Daniel sighed.
“Why do all the difficult ones belong to him?”
“That's why he's Pastor Nash.”
Wednesday evening Daniel arrived at church carrying his Bible and notebook.
Pastor Nash saw him coming.
“You have that look again.”
Daniel stopped.
“What look?”
“The one that means I'm not getting home early.”
Daniel smiled.
“I have a question.”
“I know.”
Pastor Nash sat down.
“What did you find?”
“Second Corinthians five seventeen.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“New creation.”
Daniel stared at him.
“How did you know?”
“Daniel, eventually you're going to realize other Christians have read the Bible too.”
Daniel laughed.
Then he opened it.
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“Keep going.”
“Old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.”
Daniel looked up.
“What exactly passed away?”
Pastor Nash leaned back.
“What do you think?”
“The old me.”
“Keep going.”
Daniel thought.
“The man I was before Christ.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
Daniel continued.
“The unregenerated man.”
“Yes.”
Daniel looked back at the verse.
“But here's where I'm getting stuck. If that man is gone, why do I still sometimes think like him?”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“Now we're getting somewhere.”
He turned several pages.
“Go to Romans chapter six.”
Daniel followed.
Pastor Nash pointed him toward verse six.
Daniel read.
“Knowing this, that our old man was crucified with Him, that the body of sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves of sin.”
Daniel stopped.
“Our old man was crucified with Him.”
“Yes.”
Pastor Nash pointed back a few verses.
“Now read verse four.”
Daniel read slowly.
“Therefore we were buried with Him through baptism into death, that just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life.”
Daniel looked up.
“Newness of life.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“Daniel, Christianity isn't God taking an unregenerated man and teaching him to behave religiously.”
Daniel listened carefully.
“The old man was crucified with Christ.”
Pastor Nash tapped the page.
“You were born again.”
“New life.”
“Yes.”
Daniel looked down at his Bible.
“So God didn't just repair the old Daniel.”
“No..”
“He gave me new life in Christ.”
“Yes.”
Daniel sat quietly for a moment.
Then he shook his head.
“I've been saved for months, and I'm still discovering what happened to me when I got saved.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“You may be doing that for a long time.”
Daniel laughed.
“Apparently.”
Then his expression became serious.
“But what about the old thoughts?”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“Good question.”
He turned to Romans chapter twelve.
“Read verse two.”
Daniel found it.
“And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind...”
He stopped.
“Transformed.”
“Yes.”
Daniel read it again.
“By the renewing of your mind.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“Being made a new creation and learning to think according to that new life aren't contradictions.”
Daniel listened.
“You were born again. But that doesn't mean every thought pattern you learned before Christ instantly disappeared from your mind.”
“So my mind has to be renewed.”
“By the truth of God's Word.”
Daniel thought about it.
“God made me new, and now I'm learning to think like the new man.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“That's a good way to say it.”
Daniel leaned back.
“You know what Lily drew?”
Pastor Nash looked concerned.
“Do I want to know?”
“Sadie with butterfly wings.”
Pastor Nash stared at him.
“I'm going to regret asking.”
“She said Sadie changed. She's a butterfly dog now.”
Pastor Nash started laughing.
Daniel continued.
“But it made me think about a caterpillar.”
“Metamorphosis.”
“Yes.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“And there's an interesting connection.”
Daniel waited.
“The word translated ‘transformed’ in Romans twelve two comes from the Greek word from which we get our English word metamorphosis.”
Daniel stared at him.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Daniel looked down at Romans twelve again.
“Be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”
He smiled.
“So Christianity isn't God teaching the caterpillar how to fly.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“No..”
“The caterpillar doesn't need flying lessons.”
Pastor Nash waited.
Daniel looked back at Second Corinthians.
“It needs to become something new.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“Keep the illustration in its proper place. A butterfly isn't a complete explanation of the new birth.”
“I understand.”
“But you've caught something important.”
Pastor Nash leaned forward.
“God isn't asking the unregenerated man to improve himself until he becomes acceptable.”
Daniel nodded.
“In Christ, there is new life.”
Daniel looked at the words he had written.
New creation.
Old man crucified.
Newness of life.
Mind being renewed.
The pieces were coming together.
That night Daniel and Rachel sat at the kitchen table.
The children were in bed.
Sadie was asleep nearby.
Daniel told Rachel about the conversation.
“So you were right,” he said.
Rachel smiled.
“About what?”
“Metamorphosis.”
“I'll write down the date.”
Daniel ignored her.
“The word Paul uses for transformed in Romans twelve is where we get metamorphosis.”
Rachel leaned closer.
“Really?”
“That's what Pastor Nash said.”
Daniel opened the notebook.
“I think I understand something I didn't understand before.”
Rachel waited.
“When I came to Christ, I thought salvation meant God forgave me and gave me another chance.”
“He did forgive you.”
“I know. But it was bigger than I understood.”
Daniel pointed to Second Corinthians.
“I became a new creation.”
Then Romans six.
“The old man was crucified with Christ.”
Then Romans twelve.
“And now my mind is being renewed so I learn to live according to the new life He's given me.”
Rachel smiled.
“That's quite a difference from trying harder to be religious.”
Daniel laughed softly.
“That was my life for twenty-five years.”
He became quiet.
“I knew about God.”
Rachel reached across the table and took his hand.
“But you didn't know Him.”
“No.”
Daniel looked toward the living room.
“I've thought about that day at the altar a lot.”
Rachel nodded.
“I remember.”
“I was crying because I realized how long I'd missed Him.”
His eyes became moist even remembering it.
“But I didn't understand what He was doing in me.”
Rachel squeezed his hand.
Daniel continued.
“I thought I had finally found God.”
He looked at the Bible.
“Now I'm beginning to understand that I died with Christ and was raised to walk in newness of life.”
Rachel smiled.
“Daniel, sometimes I think you're still judging yourself by the man you used to be.”
Daniel looked at her.
“I was that man.”
“Yes.”
She paused.
“But you're not only that man anymore.”
Daniel didn't answer.
Rachel pointed toward the verse.
“That's what this says.”
Daniel read it again.
“If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.”
Rachel nodded.
“Maybe you need to believe that about yourself as much as you believe it about everybody else.”
Daniel smiled.
“That sounds suspiciously like something Pastor Nash would say.”
“I've been listening.”
The next morning Daniel found Lily's drawing on the refrigerator.
Sadie.
Four legs.
Fluffy tail.
Two enormous butterfly wings.
Across the bottom, in Lily's handwriting, were the words:
SADIE CHANGED
Daniel stood looking at it.
Ethan walked into the kitchen.
“You know dogs can't turn into butterflies, right?”
Daniel smiled.
“I know.”
“Just checking.”
Ethan opened the refrigerator.
Daniel looked at him.
“Do you think people can change?”
Ethan stopped.
“Like how?”
Daniel shrugged.
“Really change.”
Ethan thought about it.
“You did.”
Daniel wasn't expecting the answer.
“What?”
Ethan looked at him.
“Mom told us what you were like when you first met.”
Daniel raised an eyebrow.
“She did?”
“Not everything.”
“That doesn't make me feel better.”
Ethan smiled.
“You didn't even like church like ours.”
Daniel laughed.
“I didn't know what to do with church like ours.”
“And now you lead worship sometimes.”
Daniel nodded.
Ethan grabbed the milk.
“And you didn't have kids.”
“No.”
“Now you have us.”
Daniel smiled.
“Yes, I do.”
Ethan poured cereal.
“And Sadie.”
“I had Sadie before you.”
“Yeah, but now she's a Walker.”
Daniel looked at the butterfly dog on the refrigerator.
“Apparently.”
Ethan sat down.
Daniel watched him for a moment.
It was such a simple conversation.
But once again, God was using ordinary life to show Daniel something from His Word.
The change Ethan could see was real.
But the greatest change was something Ethan couldn't see.
Daniel had been born again.
The man who had known religion without relationship had died with Christ.
And now there was new life.
That evening Daniel added a new heading to the notebook.
IN CHRIST
Under it he wrote:
A NEW CREATION — 2 Corinthians 5:17
Then:
The old man was crucified with Him — Romans 6:6
Walk in newness of life — Romans 6:4
Be transformed by the renewing of your mind — Romans 12:2
Rachel read over his shoulder.
“That's a lot from one butterfly dog.”
Daniel smiled.
“She's becoming quite the theologian.”
Rachel laughed.
“She's six.”
“I know.”
From the hallway Lily called,
“Dad!”
Daniel answered,
“What?”
“Sadie took my crayon!”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
Rachel raised an eyebrow.
Daniel called back,
“Maybe she's an artist now.”
Lily answered,
“No! She eats them!”
Daniel winced.
Rachel stood.
“Apparently transformation is a process.”
Daniel laughed.
“Wrong theological category.”
“I know.”
They went to rescue the crayon.
Later, after the house became quiet, Daniel returned to the notebook one more time.
He read the words.
A new creation.
For years, Daniel had tried to make the old life acceptable to God.
Be better.
Try harder.
Attend church.
Do the right things.
Maybe God would be pleased.
But the Gospel was far greater than self-improvement.
Jesus hadn't come merely to make Daniel more religious.
Daniel needed life.
And life was what Christ had given him.
The old unregenerated man had been crucified with Christ.
Daniel had been born again.
Now he was learning to walk in the newness of that life.
There were still habits to change.
Thoughts to renew.
Truths to learn.
Obedience to walk out.
But those things were not Daniel trying to make the old man worthy of God.
They were the fruit of new life.
The Word was renewing his mind.
The Holy Spirit was teaching him.
And Daniel was learning to live according to who God said he now was.
Rachel came into the room.
“You coming to bed?”
“In a minute.”
She looked at the notebook.
“Still thinking?”
Daniel nodded.
Then he smiled.
“I spent twenty-five years trying to become a better caterpillar.”
Rachel laughed softly.
“And now?”
Daniel looked at Second Corinthians five seventeen.
“Now I'm learning what it means to be a new creation.”
Rachel leaned over and kissed the top of his head.
“Don't grow wings tonight.”
“I'll try.”
She started toward the hallway.
Daniel called after her.
“Rachel?”
She turned.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For seeing the new man when I still sometimes see the old one.”
Rachel smiled.
“I see what Christ has done in you.”
Daniel looked down.
“So do I.”
And increasingly, he did.
Not with pride.
Not because Daniel had transformed himself.
But because the Word of God was showing him what had happened when he came to Jesus.
He had died with Christ.
He had been raised to walk in newness of life.
And he was being transformed as his mind was renewed.
The old unregenerated man was dead.
The new had begun.
In Christ.
Scripture for the Journey
2 Corinthians 5:17 NKJV
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.”
The Light to Carry
Christianity is not a program for making the old unregenerated person behave better.
Jesus said:
“You must be born again.”
When we come to Christ, something far greater than self-improvement takes place.
Romans 6:6 says:
“Our old man was crucified with Him...”
And Romans 6:4 tells us that we should:
“Walk in newness of life.”
The believer is not simply an improved version of the person he or she was before Christ.
“If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.”
But being a new creation does not mean there is nothing left to learn.
Romans 12:2 tells believers:
“Be transformed by the renewing of your mind...”
The word translated transformed carries the idea from which we get the word metamorphosis.
A caterpillar does not become a butterfly by learning how to behave like one.
There must be transformation.
The illustration isn't perfect, but the truth it points toward is powerful.
The old unregenerated man cannot be educated into new life.
We must be born again.
And once we have received new life in Christ, God's Word begins renewing our minds so that we learn to think and live according to what God has made true of us.
That means we don't have to spend the rest of our lives allowing our past to tell us who we are.
We can look to God's Word.
Redeemed.
Forgiven.
Accepted.
Children and heirs.
Chosen.
And now:
A new creation.
The question is no longer simply:
“How can I make the old me better?”
The better question is:
“Since God has made me a new creation in Christ, how do I learn to live according to this new life?”
The answer begins where Daniel keeps finding it.
In God's Word.
As our minds are renewed by truth, the Holy Spirit teaches us to walk out what God has already made us to be.
Not a repaired old creation.
A new creation.
In Christ.
Journey 28 — Put On the New Man
When Ethan begins having trouble with another boy at school, Daniel finds himself facing a new challenge as a father. His first instinct is to give Ethan the same advice he learned growing up—but something inside him knows there must be another way.
After asking God for wisdom, Daniel hears Pastor Nash teaching from Ephesians 4. The message isn't directed at Daniel, and Pastor Nash knows nothing about Ethan's situation. Yet as the Word is preached, Daniel recognizes that the Holy Spirit is answering the very question he brought before God.
For Daniel, it becomes another important step in learning to hear and recognize the Holy Spirit through God's Word.
And as Daniel teaches Ethan how to respond to conflict In Christ, he discovers that God is also teaching him how to be a father In Christ.
Being a new creation is more than knowing who we are.
It's learning to live like who God has already made us to be.
Scripture for the Journey: Ephesians 4:24
Put On the New Man — living out who we are In Christ.
Listen To Journey 28
In Christ — Journey 28 — Put On the New Man
Monday afternoon had been unusually quiet.
Daniel noticed it almost immediately.
Ethan usually came through the door with something to say.
Something about school.
Something somebody had done.
Something Lily needed to know even though Lily hadn't asked.
Today he walked in, dropped his backpack beside the couch, and headed toward his room.
Daniel looked up from the kitchen table.
“Hey, buddy.”
“Hey.”
“How was school?”
“Fine.”
Daniel watched him disappear down the hallway.
Rachel walked in behind him.
She had heard it too.
Daniel looked at her.
“Fine?”
Rachel nodded.
“Fine.”
They had been parents long enough to know that fine rarely meant fine.
Lily came bouncing through the door.
“Dad!”
“There it is.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Lily dropped her backpack beside Ethan's.
Daniel pointed.
“Rooms.”
She sighed dramatically.
“I just got home.”
“So did your backpack.”
Lily picked it up.
“This family has too many rules.”
Rachel smiled.
“You've only been a Walker for a little while. Give us time.”
Lily headed toward her room.
Daniel looked down the hallway again.
Ethan's door was closed.
Something was wrong.
At dinner Ethan barely spoke.
Daniel didn't push.
He was learning that sometimes children talked when they were ready.
Other times they needed a little help getting there.
After dinner, Daniel found Ethan sitting on the back steps.
Sadie was beside him.
Daniel sat down.
For a while neither of them said anything.
Sadie placed her head on Ethan's leg.
Daniel looked at her.
“You know something I don't?”
Ethan scratched behind her ears.
“She knows everything.”
“That explains a lot.”
Ethan smiled, but only for a second.
Daniel waited.
Finally Ethan said,
“There's this kid at school.”
Daniel nodded.
“What about him?”
“He's just a jerk.”
Daniel almost corrected the word.
Instead he asked,
“What does he do?”
Ethan shrugged.
“Stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“He calls me names.”
Daniel waited.
“He tells the other kids things about me that aren't true.”
Ethan looked down.
“Today he knocked my books out of my hands.”
Daniel's expression changed.
“Did you tell your teacher?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because then everybody says you're a tattletale.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“What happened after he knocked your books down?”
Ethan didn't answer.
Daniel already knew there was more.
“Ethan?”
“I pushed him.”
“How hard?”
“He fell.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
“Did he get hurt?”
“No.”
“Did you get in trouble?”
Ethan nodded.
“The teacher only saw me push him.”
Daniel understood.
That old feeling rose quickly.
The one that said if somebody came after you, you made sure they regretted it.
Daniel had learned that lesson long before he learned anything about walking with Christ.
“So he had been bothering you, knocked your books down, and then you pushed him.”
“Yeah.”
Daniel was quiet.
Ethan looked at him.
“What was I supposed to do?”
Daniel answered before he had really thought about it.
“You can't just let somebody walk all over you.”
Ethan looked relieved.
“So I did the right thing?”
Daniel hesitated.
“I didn't say that.”
“But you said—”
“I know what I said.”
Daniel rubbed his hands together.
“If somebody is hurting you, you need to protect yourself and get away. And you need to tell your teacher. You tell me and Mom too.”
“But if he does it again?”
Daniel looked at his son.
Part of him wanted to say exactly what he'd been taught as a boy.
Don't start it.
But make sure you finish it.
The words were almost there.
But Daniel stopped.
“I don't know.”
Ethan looked surprised.
“You don't?”
Daniel smiled slightly.
“I'm allowed not to know everything.”
“I thought dads knew everything.”
“Who told you that?”
“Nobody.”
“Good. Let's keep it that way.”
Ethan smiled.
Daniel put an arm around him.
“We're going to figure this out.”
That evening Rachel was folding clothes when Daniel told her what had happened.
“He pushed him?”
“Yeah.”
“Is Ethan okay?”
“He's fine. The other boy is fine.”
Rachel stopped folding.
“But this has been going on for a while?”
“Apparently.”
“We need to talk to his teacher.”
“I told him that.”
Rachel nodded.
Then she looked at Daniel.
“What did you tell him about the boy?”
Daniel hesitated.
“That he couldn't let somebody walk all over him.”
Rachel waited.
“I almost told him to hit him back if it happened again.”
“But you didn't.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Daniel sat down.
“I don't know.”
Rachel smiled.
“You've said that twice tonight.”
“I know.”
He looked at her.
“Everything in me wanted to tell him what I would have done.”
Rachel sat beside him.
“What would you have done?”
Daniel smiled without humor.
“Probably something that would have gotten me suspended.”
Rachel nodded.
“So maybe not our best parenting model.”
“No.”
Daniel leaned back.
“But I don't want to teach him to be weak either.”
Rachel shook her head.
“Following Jesus isn't weakness.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
Daniel looked at her.
Rachel smiled.
“I mean, do you know what you're supposed to teach Ethan?”
Daniel shook his head.
“No..”
Rachel reached for his hand.
“Then let's ask God.”
Daniel prayed about it that night.
Not a long prayer.
“Father, I don't know what to tell him.”
He paused.
“I want to teach him what's right.”
Another pause.
“Not just what I learned.”
Daniel thought about Ethan sitting on the steps.
“Show me how to help my son.”
Nothing dramatic happened.
No voice.
No sudden answer.
Daniel went to bed.
Wednesday evening the family sat together at church.
Daniel had his Bible open.
Rachel sat beside him.
Ethan and Lily were on the other side.
Pastor Nash stepped to the pulpit.
“Tonight I want to continue talking about what happens when we begin to understand who we are in Christ.”
Daniel looked up.
Pastor Nash continued.
“We can learn all the right words.”
“Redeemed.”
“Accepted.”
“Chosen.”
“A new creation.”
Daniel smiled slightly.
Those words were all over his notebook.
“But eventually,” Pastor Nash said, “what we believe has to show up in how we live.”
Daniel's smile disappeared.
Pastor Nash turned to Ephesians chapter four.
“Paul writes about putting off the conduct that belonged to the old man, being renewed in the spirit of the mind, and putting on the new man.”
Daniel found the passage.
This was exactly what he had been learning.
The old man wasn't being repaired.
In Christ, he had been made new.
But now that new life was supposed to affect the way he lived.
Pastor Nash continued.
“And notice something. Paul doesn't leave this as theology floating somewhere above everyday life. Keep reading. He starts talking about truth. Anger. The words coming out of our mouths. Bitterness. Kindness. Forgiveness.”
Daniel stopped.
Anger.
His mind went immediately to Ethan.
The books scattered across the school floor.
The boy provoking him.
Ethan pushing him.
And Daniel's own words:
You can't just let somebody walk all over you.
Pastor Nash continued speaking, but something was happening inside Daniel.
Not an audible voice.
Pastor Nash hadn't mentioned Ethan.
Nobody in the church even knew what had happened at school.
But the Word Daniel was hearing suddenly became intensely personal.
This is what you asked Me about.
Daniel looked down at his Bible.
Then he understood.
He had prayed,
Father, show me how to help my son.
And here was the answer.
Rachel noticed him writing in his notebook.
She leaned toward him.
“You got something?”
Daniel nodded.
“For Ethan.”
Rachel glanced toward Pastor Nash.
“Did you tell him?”
“No..”
Daniel looked back at the open Bible.
“But God knew.”
Pastor Nash continued.
“The new man isn't something you put on Sunday morning and take off when somebody makes you angry on Monday.”
A few people laughed.
But Daniel didn't.
He was thinking about Ethan.
Pastor Nash walked slowly across the front of the sanctuary.
“Keep reading Ephesians four and you'll see how practical Paul gets. He deals with anger. He deals with our words. He deals with bitterness and wrath. Then he tells us what should take their place—kindness, tenderheartedness, forgiveness.”
Daniel underlined the verses.
Pastor Nash continued.
“Being a new creation doesn't mean nobody will ever mistreat you. It doesn't mean nobody will make you angry. It means their behavior no longer has to determine yours.”
Daniel stopped writing.
There it was.
He looked at Rachel.
She had heard it too.
Pastor Nash said,
“Somebody else's sin doesn't give me permission to return to the conduct Christ has called me out of.”
Daniel thought about what he'd nearly told Ethan.
Don't start it. But make sure you finish it.
It sounded different now.
Not because Daniel wanted Ethan to be afraid.
Not because a Christian should allow someone to hurt him.
But because Daniel suddenly understood that there was a difference between protecting yourself from harm and retaliating because you're angry.
Pastor Nash seemed almost to answer his thought.
“Now don't misunderstand me. Forgiveness doesn't mean you remain in a dangerous situation. Kindness doesn't mean you never establish boundaries. And following Christ doesn't mean you refuse appropriate help when someone is hurting you.”
Daniel wrote one word in his notebook.
Ethan.
“But when the old response says, ‘They hurt me, so I'm going to hurt them,’ the new man has another way to live.”
Daniel lowered his pen.
For months he had been learning who he was in Christ.
Tonight the Holy Spirit was showing him what that identity looked like when life became difficult.
On the drive home, Daniel was unusually quiet.
Rachel waited until they were almost there.
“You're still thinking about Ethan.”
“Yeah.”
“What are you going to tell him?”
Daniel shook his head.
“I'm not completely sure yet.”
Rachel smiled.
“But you know more than you did Monday.”
“A lot more.”
From the back seat Ethan asked,
“What are you talking about?”
Daniel looked at him in the mirror.
“You.”
Ethan's eyes widened.
“What did I do?”
Lily immediately turned toward him.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing!”
Daniel laughed.
“Relax. You're not in trouble.”
Lily sounded disappointed.
“Oh.”
Ethan looked at her.
“Why do you sound sad?”
“I wanted to know what you did.”
Rachel covered her smile.
Daniel shook his head.
“I'm beginning to understand why parents get gray hair.”
Lily leaned forward.
“Do you have gray hair?”
“Not yet.”
Rachel looked at him.
“Would you like me to answer that?”
“No..”
After they got home, Daniel asked Ethan to sit with him at the kitchen table.
He placed his Bible between them.
Ethan looked at it.
“Am I getting a sermon?”
Daniel smiled.
“I hope not.”
“Pastor Nash already gave us one.”
“That's actually why we're sitting here.”
Ethan waited.
Daniel took a breath.
“Remember what I told you Monday?”
“That I shouldn't let people walk all over me?”
“Yeah.”
Daniel paused.
“I don't think I gave you a very good answer.”
Ethan looked surprised.
“You didn't?”
“No..”
“Do dads do that?”
Daniel smiled.
“This one does.”
Ethan grinned.
“Probably more than you'll ever know.”
Rachel, passing through the kitchen, said,
“I heard that.”
Daniel looked toward her.
“I wasn't asking for witnesses.”
“You married one.”
She continued down the hallway.
Daniel turned back to Ethan.
“Here's what I was doing. I was trying to teach you what I learned growing up.”
“What's wrong with that?”
“Not everything I learned was wrong. But not everything I learned was how Jesus wants us to live either.”
Daniel opened Ephesians chapter four.
“Do you remember what Pastor Nash was talking about tonight?”
“The new man?”
“Exactly.”
Daniel pointed to the passage.
“When you trusted Jesus, He didn't just give you a list of better rules. You received new life in Him.”
Ethan nodded.
“Like the butterfly.”
Daniel smiled.
“Your sister's butterfly dog is going to follow us forever, isn't it?”
From somewhere down the hallway Lily shouted,
“I heard that!”
Daniel looked toward the hallway.
“Of course you did.”
He turned back to Ethan.
“Here's what I'm learning. Being a new creation means there are times when the way I used to think isn't the way I should think anymore.”
Ethan looked down at the Bible.
“Like pushing that kid?”
“Maybe. Let's talk about it.”
Daniel leaned closer.
“What he did to you was wrong.”
Ethan looked up.
Daniel wanted that part to be unmistakable.
“Calling you names is wrong. Lying about you is wrong. Knocking your books down is wrong. And if he keeps doing things like that, you need to tell your teacher. You tell me. You tell Mom. Getting help when somebody keeps mistreating you isn't weakness.”
Ethan nodded slowly.
“But I shouldn't have pushed him.”
Daniel thought before answering.
“If you need to get away from somebody who's trying to hurt you, get away and get an adult. But pushing him because you were angry and wanted to get him back—that's different.”
Ethan stared at the table.
“I was mad.”
“I know.”
“I wanted him to fall.”
Daniel nodded.
“Thank you for telling me the truth.”
Ethan looked up.
“Are you mad?”
“No..”
“Am I in trouble?”
“We're talking. That's different.”
Daniel turned the Bible slightly toward Ethan.
“Pastor Nash said something tonight that I think God wanted me to hear.”
“What?”
Daniel thought for a moment.
Then he said it as simply as he could.
“Ethan, you can't always control what somebody else does to you. But because you belong to Jesus, what they do doesn't have to decide what comes out of you.”
Ethan was quiet.
Daniel let him think.
“So if he's mean to me, I have to be nice to him?”
“That's not exactly what I'm saying.”
Daniel leaned back.
“You don't have to pretend what he's doing is okay. You don't have to keep standing there while he does it. And forgiving somebody doesn't mean you hide what they're doing.”
“Then what does it mean?”
“It means you don't let what he's doing turn you into somebody you're not supposed to be.”
Ethan thought about that.
Daniel continued.
“If he lies, you don't have to lie.”
“If he calls you names, you don't have to call him names.”
“If he's angry, you don't have to let his anger control yours.”
“And if he's mistreating you, you get help.”
Ethan looked at the Bible.
“So that's putting on the new man?”
Daniel smiled.
“I think we're both learning what it means.”
The next morning Daniel and Rachel spoke with Ethan's teacher.
They learned there had been more going on than either of them knew.
The teacher had noticed some tension between the boys but hadn't realized how long it had been happening.
She thanked them for telling her and said she would address it.
On the way to the truck, Ethan looked at Daniel.
“I still feel like a tattletale.”
Daniel stopped.
“There's a difference between trying to get somebody in trouble and telling the truth because something wrong needs to stop.”
Ethan thought about it.
“What if everybody thinks I'm scared?”
Daniel crouched slightly so they were eye to eye.
“Are you?”
“A little.”
Daniel nodded.
“Being afraid doesn't make you weak.”
Ethan looked surprised.
“It doesn't?”
“No.. Courage isn't pretending nothing bothers you.”
Daniel put his hand on Ethan's shoulder.
“Sometimes courage is doing the right thing even when you're worried about what people will think.”
Ethan nodded.
Then he headed toward school.
“Ethan.”
He turned.
Daniel smiled.
“I love you.”
Ethan looked around quickly to see whether anyone had heard.
“Dad.”
Daniel laughed.
“Go.”
Two days later Ethan came through the front door.
His backpack hit the floor.
Daniel pointed at it.
Ethan picked it back up without being told.
Daniel stared.
“Who are you, and what have you done with my son?”
Ethan smiled.
“Very funny.”
“How was school?”
Ethan hesitated.
“Better.”
Daniel put down what he was doing.
“What happened?”
“He said something again.”
Daniel waited.
“I wanted to say something back.”
“But?”
“I didn't.”
Daniel nodded.
“What did you do?”
“I walked away.”
“And?”
“I told my teacher.”
Daniel smiled.
“How'd that feel?”
“Kind of stupid.”
Daniel laughed.
“I appreciate the honesty.”
Ethan smiled.
“Then later he asked if he could play basketball with us.”
Daniel raised his eyebrows.
“What did you say?”
“I said okay.”
Daniel hadn't expected that.
“You did?”
Ethan shrugged.
“He wasn't being a jerk then.”
Daniel smiled.
“So what happened?”
“We played basketball.”
“That's it?”
“Yeah.”
Daniel looked at him for a moment.
“I'm proud of you.”
Ethan shrugged again, but Daniel could see the smile.
“I didn't do anything.”
“Yes, you did.”
Ethan looked at him.
“You made a choice.”
Daniel tapped his chest.
“You didn't let what somebody else did decide what came out of you.”
Ethan recognized the words.
“The new man.”
Daniel nodded.
“The new man.”
Lily entered the room carrying a piece of paper.
“Dad, look.”
Daniel took it.
Another picture.
This time Sadie was wearing what appeared to be a cape.
Daniel looked at Lily.
“Why does Sadie have a cape?”
“She's a superhero.”
Ethan looked over his shoulder.
“She was a butterfly last week.”
“She changed again.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Wrong theological category.”
Rachel laughed from the kitchen.
That evening Daniel returned to his notebook.
WHO WE ARE IN CHRIST
He turned to the page from Journey 27.
A NEW CREATION
Underneath it he had written:
The old man was crucified with Christ.
Walk in newness of life.
Be transformed by the renewing of your mind.
On the next page he wrote:
PUT ON THE NEW MAN — EPHESIANS 4
Then underneath:
Who I am in Christ should change how I respond.
Rachel sat down beside him.
“You know what I noticed?”
“What?”
“You didn't call Pastor Nash.”
Daniel looked at her.
“No.”
“You usually would have.”
Daniel thought about it.
“I prayed.”
“I know.”
“And then Wednesday night…”
He stopped.
Rachel waited.
“I don't know exactly how to explain it.”
“Try.”
Daniel looked down at his Bible.
“Pastor Nash was preaching to everybody.”
“Right.”
“But I knew God was answering me.”
Rachel smiled.
Daniel continued.
“It wasn't an audible voice. It wasn't like somebody told Pastor Nash what was happening.”
He touched the open Bible.
“It was the Word.”
Rachel nodded.
“And somehow I knew the Holy Spirit was showing me, ‘This is what you asked Me about.’”
Daniel sat quietly for a moment.
“Does that make sense?”
“Yes.”
“I don't want to start calling every thought I have God.”
“Good.”
Daniel smiled.
“We've already learned that lesson.”
Rachel nodded.
“But Daniel, Jesus said the Holy Spirit would teach us and bring His words to our remembrance.”
Daniel looked down at the page again.
“So I'm learning to hear Him.”
“I think you're learning to recognize Him.”
That landed differently.
Daniel slowly nodded.
“Recognize Him.”
Rachel pointed toward the Bible.
“And notice where He took you.”
Daniel understood.
“Back to the Word.”
“Exactly.”
Daniel wrote another sentence.
The Holy Spirit will never lead me contrary to the Word He inspired.
He stared at it.
For so long he'd thought hearing from God had to mean something spectacular.
A voice.
A sign.
Something impossible to miss.
But perhaps sometimes it was quieter than that.
A believer asking his Father for wisdom.
The Word being preached.
The Holy Spirit bringing truth alive at exactly the moment it was needed.
And then the responsibility to obey.
Daniel smiled.
“I think I'm starting to understand.”
Rachel leaned toward him.
“What?”
“God doesn't only want me to know His Word.”
He looked toward Ethan's room.
“He wants His Word to become the way I live.”
Later that night Daniel checked on the children.
Lily was asleep sideways across her bed.
Sadie was curled up near her feet.
Daniel whispered,
“You're not supposed to be in here.”
Sadie's eyes opened.
Her tail moved once.
Daniel looked at Lily.
Then at Sadie.
“We'll discuss this tomorrow.”
Sadie closed her eyes.
Apparently the discussion was over.
Daniel walked to Ethan's room.
Ethan was still awake.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“What if he starts doing it again?”
Daniel sat on the edge of the bed.
“Then we deal with it again.”
“What if I mess up?”
Daniel smiled.
“Then we deal with that too.”
Ethan looked at him.
“You don't have to get everything right the first time.”
“I don't?”
“No..”
Daniel thought about his own journey.
“I certainly haven't.”
Ethan smiled.
Daniel continued.
“But we keep going back to what's true. We keep letting God's Word teach us. And when we get it wrong, we admit it and make it right.”
Ethan nodded.
“Like you did with me?”
Daniel smiled.
“Exactly like I did with you.”
Ethan pulled the blanket up.
“Goodnight, Dad.”
“Goodnight, buddy.”
Daniel turned off the light.
As he stepped into the hallway, something became clear.
He had thought the lesson was for Ethan.
It wasn't.
Not only.
God was teaching a son how to respond to trouble.
And He was teaching a father how to lead his son.
The same Word.
The same Holy Spirit.
The same new life.
Daniel had spent months learning who he was In Christ.
Now he was beginning to understand something else.
Identity was never meant to remain words written in a notebook.
It was meant to become life.
At school.
At work.
At church.
In marriage.
In fatherhood.
Even when somebody knocked your books onto the floor.
The new man wasn't something Daniel was trying to become.
In Christ, God had already made him new.
Now he was learning to put on the new man—to let the truth of that new life shape the way he thought, spoke, forgave, chose, and responded.
And little by little, the Word was becoming more than something Daniel read.
It was becoming something he lived.
In Christ.
Scripture for the Journey
Ephesians 4:24 — NKJV
Paul's instruction is to put on the new man, the life created according to God in righteousness and true holiness.
The Light to Carry
Being a new creation in Christ doesn't mean you'll never face anger, conflict, mistreatment, or difficult choices.
It means those things no longer have to determine who you are or how you respond.
The old unregenerated man is not being repaired. In Christ, you have received new life.
But now comes the daily journey of learning to live according to that life.
That's why Scripture teaches us to renew our minds and put on the new man.
The Holy Spirit helps us do that through the Word of God. Sometimes His direction comes while we're reading Scripture ourselves. Sometimes a verse we've learned comes back to our remembrance. Sometimes the Word is being preached to an entire congregation, yet the Holy Spirit makes its application unmistakably personal.
We should test what we believe we're hearing against Scripture. The Holy Spirit will never lead us contrary to the Word He inspired.
And when God shows us truth, we're called to respond to it.
Daniel prayed for wisdom about Ethan.
God didn't give him a parenting formula.
He brought Daniel back to His Word.
And as Daniel taught Ethan how to respond In Christ, Daniel discovered that the Holy Spirit was teaching him how to be a father In Christ.
That's discipleship.
The truth moves from the Bible...
to the heart...
to the mind...
and finally into the way we live.
We don't obey in order to become new creations.
We learn to obey because, in Christ, we have been made new.
And that's what it means to begin putting on the new man.
In Christ.
Journey 29 — Seated With Christ
A promotion seems like an answer to prayer for Rachel—better pay, better hours, and more time with her family.
Then she begins working with the company's financial records.
Something isn't right.
When Rachel is instructed to make an entry she believes is dishonest, she faces a difficult choice. She respects her boss's authority, but she knows there is One whose authority is greater.
With her job, promotion, and income suddenly uncertain, Rachel discovers the truth of Ephesians 2:6:
In Christ, she has already been raised up and seated with Him.
Her circumstances may change. Her position in Christ does not.
And before Rachel knows how the situation will end, she makes another choice—she prays for her boss, asking God to help him see that truth is the right way to go.
Scripture for the Journey: Ephesians 2:4–6
Circumstances change. Christ does not.
Listen To Journey 29
In Christ — Journey 29 — Seated With Christ
The promotion came on a Tuesday.
Rachel had been called into her supervisor's office just before the end of her shift. She expected another schedule change.
Instead, he motioned toward the chair across from his desk.
“Rachel, sit down a minute.”
She sat.
He folded his hands on the desk.
“I've been watching the way you work.”
Rachel wasn't sure whether that was good or bad.
“You're dependable. You show up. You don't need somebody standing over you all the time. And when something needs to be done, you do it.”
Rachel smiled slightly.
“Thank you.”
“I need somebody helping with the office side of things. Invoices, receipts, deposits, some of the bookkeeping. Nothing you can't learn.”
Rachel blinked.
“Me?”
He smiled.
“You.”
The position meant more responsibility.
It also meant better pay and, eventually, better hours.
For Rachel, better hours meant more evenings at home with Daniel, Ethan, and Lily.
“I'd like that.”
“Good. We'll start training you tomorrow.”
Rachel left his office smiling.
By the time she reached her truck, she was already thanking God.
Daniel was in the kitchen when Rachel came through the door.
Lily reached her first.
“Mom!”
Rachel barely had time to put her purse down before Lily wrapped both arms around her.
Daniel looked over.
“You're smiling.”
“I smile.”
“You do. But that's your something-happened smile.”
Rachel looked at Ethan.
“Does he always analyze everybody?”
Ethan nodded.
“Pretty much.”
Daniel pointed at him.
“You're supposed to be on my side.”
“I am.”
Lily looked confused.
“Then why did you tell Mom?”
Ethan shrugged.
“Because it was true.”
Daniel sighed.
“I live in a house full of betrayal.”
Rachel laughed.
“I got promoted.”
Daniel's expression changed immediately.
“Really?”
She nodded.
“They want me helping in the office. Bookkeeping, deposits, invoices. Better pay. And once I'm trained, probably better hours.”
Daniel wrapped his arms around her.
“Rachel, that's wonderful.”
“It really is.”
Lily tugged at Rachel's sleeve.
“Does promoted mean you're the boss?”
“No.”
“Can you become the boss?”
“I suppose someday.”
Lily considered that.
“Then you could tell everybody when to go to bed.”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
“Apparently that's her understanding of management.”
Rachel laughed.
For the next several days, the promotion seemed like exactly what they had hoped.
Rachel learned quickly.
She had always been careful with details, and numbers made sense to her.
But by the second week, something didn't.
A receipt had been entered under an expense category that didn't match what had actually been purchased.
Rachel assumed it was a mistake.
She corrected it.
The next day, it had been changed back.
Then she found another.
And another.
None of them were large enough by themselves to raise alarm.
But together, they bothered her.
Rachel finally carried one of the receipts into her boss's office.
“Can I ask you about something?”
“Sure.”
She placed the receipt on his desk beside the bookkeeping entry.
“This says one thing, but it's entered as something else.”
He glanced at it.
“That's right.”
Rachel waited.
He went back to his computer.
She didn't move.
He looked up again.
“Something else?”
“I thought it was a mistake.”
“It isn't.”
Rachel looked at the receipt.
“Then I don't understand.”
He leaned back.
“Rachel, there are ways you handle expenses when you run a business. You'll learn.”
Something in his tone told her the conversation was over.
Rachel picked up the receipt.
“Okay.”
But it wasn't okay.
Over the next several days, Rachel found more.
Some she could explain.
Others she couldn't.
And the more she understood the bookkeeping system, the more uncomfortable she became.
Then Friday afternoon, her boss placed several documents on her desk.
“I need these entered before you leave.”
Rachel looked through them.
When she reached the third one, she stopped.
She checked the supporting receipt.
Then the entry.
Then the receipt again.
She carried it into his office.
“I can't enter this this way.”
He looked up.
“Why not?”
“Because that's not what this receipt says.”
“I know what it says.”
“Then why are we entering it differently?”
He lowered his voice.
“Because that's where I want it entered.”
Rachel stood still.
“But it isn't true.”
His expression hardened slightly.
“Rachel, I'm not asking you to audit me. I'm telling you how we handle it.”
She looked at the paper.
“Is this legal?”
His chair moved backward.
“Excuse me?”
Rachel immediately realized how accusatory the question sounded.
“I'm not trying to accuse you of anything. I'm trying to understand what you're asking me to put into the books.”
“It's my company.”
“I understand that.”
“Then enter it.”
Rachel looked down again.
Her name would be attached to the entry.
She slowly placed the document on his desk.
“I can't.”
He stared at her.
“I promoted you because I trusted you.”
Rachel swallowed.
“That's why I can't do this.”
Neither of them spoke for several seconds.
Finally he said, “Go home, Rachel.”
“Am I fired?”
“I said go home. We'll talk Monday.”
Rachel picked up her purse.
Her hands were shaking by the time she reached the parking lot.
Daniel knew immediately that something was wrong.
Rachel came through the door, put down her purse, and sat at the kitchen table without taking off her jacket.
Daniel turned from the counter.
“What happened?”
She told him.
By the time she finished, Daniel was standing.
“He wants you to falsify the books?”
“That's what it looks like.”
“Then quit.”
Rachel looked up.
“Daniel.”
“What?”
“We have a mortgage.”
“I know.”
“Two children.”
“I'm familiar with them.”
From the hallway came Lily's voice.
“I heard that!”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Of course you did.”
Rachel almost smiled.
Almost.
Daniel sat across from her.
“Okay. I'm sorry. What are you thinking?”
“I don't know.”
“You know you can't do what he's asking.”
“Yes.”
“Then you do know.”
Rachel shook her head.
“I know what I can't do. I don't know what happens after that.”
That quieted him.
Rachel looked toward the stack of mail on the counter.
Mortgage.
Electricity.
Groceries.
Shoes Ethan would soon outgrow.
Everything suddenly had a dollar sign attached to it.
“The Bible tells us to respect authority,” she said.
Daniel nodded.
“But what happens when the person in authority tells you to do something you believe is wrong?”
Daniel started to answer.
Then stopped.
Rachel noticed.
“What?”
“I was about to tell you what I think.”
“And?”
Daniel reached across the table and took her hand.
“I think maybe we should find out what the Word says first.”
Rachel squeezed his hand.
“That sounds like a good idea.”
That evening they sat together with their Bibles.
They found passages about respecting authority.
They found passages about honesty.
They found the apostles saying that when obedience to human authority directly conflicted with obedience to God, they must obey God rather than men.
Then Rachel found Colossians.
She read quietly for several moments.
“What?”
Daniel asked.
Rachel pointed to the passage.
“Whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not to men.”
Daniel looked at the next verse.
“Knowing that from the Lord you will receive the reward of the inheritance.”
Rachel finished softly.
“For you serve the Lord Christ.”
She leaned back.
“My boss is my boss.”
Daniel nodded.
“But he's not my Lord.”
There was no rebellion in her voice.
Only clarity.
Daniel looked at her.
“So what are you going to do?”
Rachel took a long breath.
“I'm going back Monday.”
“And?”
“I'll do my job.”
“And the entries?”
“I won't falsify them.”
Daniel nodded.
“What if he fires you?”
Rachel didn't answer immediately.
“I don't know.”
And for the moment, that was the truth.
Later that night Daniel walked past the bedroom and heard Rachel talking.
At first he thought she was on the phone.
Then he realized she was praying.
He stopped outside the doorway.
“Father, I don't want him hurt. I don't want his business hurt. And I don't want to become angry with him.”
Daniel leaned against the wall.
“Please help him see that truth is the right way. Give him the courage to correct whatever needs to be corrected.”
Rachel paused.
“And help me speak the truth without making him my enemy.”
Daniel lowered his eyes.
“If I've misunderstood something, show me. But if I haven't, help me stand without becoming hard.”
Another pause.
“And Lord, let him see You in the way I handle this.”
When Rachel finished, Daniel stepped into the room.
“You're praying for him?”
Rachel looked up.
“Who else should I be praying for?”
Daniel sat beside her.
“I think I would've been praying for God to straighten him out.”
Rachel smiled slightly.
“I am.”
Daniel laughed.
“That's what I thought.”
“I'm just asking Him to straighten me out too if I need it.”
Daniel shook his head.
“You make it really difficult to stay mad at people.”
“I was scared.”
Daniel's smile disappeared.
“Was?”
“I am scared.”
He took her hand.
“Then how are you this calm?”
“I'm not.”
“You look calm.”
Rachel gave him a tired smile.
“That's different.”
She looked down.
“I'm scared, Daniel. I just know fear doesn't get to make this decision.”
Saturday morning Daniel found Rachel at the kitchen table with her Bible open.
She had been reading Ephesians.
Daniel poured coffee and sat across from her.
“Find anything?”
Rachel turned the Bible toward him.
“Read that.”
Daniel read.
God, rich in mercy, because of His great love, had made them alive together with Christ.
Daniel continued.
Raised them up together.
Then he stopped.
“Made us sit together in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus.”
He read it again.
“Seated with Christ.”
Rachel nodded.
“What does that mean?”
Daniel smiled.
“You're asking me?”
“You've been studying all this.”
“So have you.”
“Then we're both in trouble.”
Daniel read the passage again.
“I don't think it means we're physically sitting in heaven.”
“That would make this kitchen very confusing.”
Daniel looked around.
“Especially the dishes.”
Rachel smiled.
Then Daniel became serious.
“Everything we've been learning keeps coming back to those same words.”
Rachel looked at the passage.
“In Christ.”
Daniel nodded.
“Made alive with Him. Raised with Him. Seated with Him.”
Rachel looked toward the bills on the counter.
“I know what the Bible says.”
She hesitated.
“But right now I feel like I'm sitting at this table wondering how we're going to pay for everything if I lose my job.”
Daniel didn't rush to answer.
He understood.
The mortgage was real.
The bills were real.
Rachel's job was real.
Finally he said, “Maybe being seated with Christ doesn't mean the natural situation isn't real.”
Rachel looked at him.
“Maybe it means the natural situation doesn't get the final word about who we are.”
Rachel looked back at Ephesians.
“My job can change.”
“Yeah.”
“My paycheck can change.”
“Yeah.”
“My boss can change his mind.”
“Definitely.”
“But none of that changes where God says I am in Christ.”
Daniel smiled.
“I think you're getting it.”
Rachel raised an eyebrow.
“I showed you the verse.”
“Then I'm getting it.”
“That I'll accept.”
Daniel stood and began pacing.
Rachel watched him walk across the kitchen.
Then back.
Then across again.
“Daniel.”
“What?”
“Sit down.”
“I'm thinking.”
“You've walked past me fourteen times.”
“It hasn't been fourteen.”
“Sit.”
Daniel sat.
Rachel looked at him.
“Better?”
“Not really.”
“At least now you're worrying from a seated position.”
Daniel froze.
Rachel immediately recognized the look.
“No.”
“What?”
“Don't do that.”
“Do what?”
“That thing where I say something normal and suddenly you turn it into a Bible lesson.”
Daniel pointed at her.
“Seated.”
“I didn't mean that spiritually.”
“Maybe you didn't.”
Rachel covered her face.
“I've created a monster.”
From the other room Ethan called, “What happened?”
Rachel called back, “Your father discovered a chair.”
“Okay.”
Daniel opened his Bible again.
They spent much of Saturday returning to Ephesians 2.
Daniel noticed something else.
The chapter began with where they had once been—dead in trespasses and sins.
Then came two words that stopped him.
But God.
Daniel smiled.
“Rachel.”
“I see it.”
They both remembered those words.
But God.
God, rich in mercy.
God, because of His great love.
Made alive.
Raised up.
Seated together.
None of it began with Daniel earning a position.
None of it began with Rachel performing well enough.
It began with God.
Daniel said quietly, “We've spent so much time thinking about what we're supposed to do.”
Rachel nodded.
“But look at how much of this is about what He did.”
Daniel ran his finger down the page.
“Made us alive.”
“Raised us.”
“Seated us.”
Rachel looked at him.
“We didn't earn the seat.”
“No.”
“And we don't keep it by having a perfect week.”
Daniel thought about that.
“So Monday can't change your position.”
Rachel smiled.
“It might change my employment.”
“That's not funny.”
“A little.”
“No.”
She reached across and took his hand.
“Daniel, I'm not saying this doesn't matter.”
“I know.”
“I want that job. I want the better hours. I want the extra money.”
“I know.”
“But I can't trade obedience for security.”
Daniel squeezed her hand.
And this time he understood.
Rachel wasn't standing against her boss because she believed everything would work out Monday.
She was standing because Christ was Lord even if it didn't.
Monday morning came too quickly.
Rachel sat in the parking lot for several minutes before going inside.
Her hands rested on the steering wheel.
“Father, I know what I want You to do.”
She swallowed.
“I want You to fix this.”
Silence.
“But even if You don't fix it the way I want, help me not trade obedience for security.”
She took a breath.
“And please help him see the truth.”
Rachel got out of the truck.
Her boss was already in his office.
He called her in almost immediately.
The same documents were on his desk.
“Close the door.”
Rachel did.
He motioned toward the chair.
She sat.
He didn't speak for several seconds.
Finally he picked up the document she had refused to enter.
“I've been thinking about what you said.”
Rachel waited.
“I didn't appreciate being questioned.”
“I understand.”
“No, you probably don't.”
Rachel remained quiet.
He looked at the paperwork.
“But I looked at some things over the weekend.”
Rachel could feel her heartbeat.
He placed the paper down.
“We're going to correct it.”
Rachel wasn't sure she had heard correctly.
“This one?”
He looked at her.
“All of it.”
Rachel exhaled slowly.
There was no victory speech.
No “I told you so.”
She simply nodded.
“Okay.”
Then she said, “I'll help you.”
Her boss studied her.
“Why?”
Rachel wasn't expecting the question.
“Why what?”
“Why help me?”
He leaned back.
“You could have quit Friday.”
Rachel thought carefully.
“Because I didn't want to run from you.”
He waited.
“I want this job. I appreciate the promotion. And I want to work for you.”
She looked at the papers.
“But I can't put my name on something I know isn't true.”
Her boss looked away.
Rachel continued gently.
“I believe truth is always the right way to go. Even when fixing something is difficult.”
He nodded once.
“Let's fix it.”
That evening Rachel came through the front door.
Daniel was waiting.
“Well?”
Rachel put down her purse.
“I still have a job.”
Daniel released the breath he'd apparently been holding all day.
“And?”
“I still have the promotion.”
Daniel smiled.
“And?”
Rachel made him wait.
“He's correcting the books.”
Daniel stood.
“All of them?”
“All of them.”
Daniel wrapped his arms around her.
“Thank God.”
Rachel rested her head against him.
“I already did.”
Then she pulled back.
“But Daniel?”
“What?”
“I had to be willing to obey before I knew he was going to change his mind.”
Daniel's smile softened.
“Yeah.”
“If I only trusted God because I knew how Monday was going to turn out, that wouldn't have been much trust.”
Daniel nodded.
“You were seated before Monday.”
Rachel smiled.
“I was seated Friday.”
“Thursday.”
“Before the promotion.”
Daniel thought about Ephesians.
“Before you ever understood it.”
Rachel nodded.
“Because my position wasn't created when I understood the verse.”
Daniel finished the thought.
“It was created by what Christ did.”
That evening the notebook came out again.
WHO WE ARE IN CHRIST
Daniel turned to a clean page.
He wrote:
SEATED WITH CHRIST — EPHESIANS 2:6
Underneath:
My circumstances may change. My position in Christ does not.
Rachel read it.
Then added another line:
Christ is Lord over every other authority in my life.
Daniel thought for a moment.
Then wrote:
Authority in Christ does not make me arrogant. It gives me confidence to obey Christ with humility.
Rachel nodded.
“Keep that one.”
“I was planning to.”
She looked farther down Ephesians 2.
Then stopped.
“Daniel.”
“What?”
“Come here.”
He leaned over her shoulder.
She pointed farther down the page.
Verse ten.
Created in Christ Jesus for good works.
Daniel read it twice.
Then looked at Rachel.
“I think I just found the next question.”
Rachel laughed.
“You couldn't just close the Bible, could you?”
Daniel shook his head.
“Apparently not.”
That night, after Ethan and Lily were in bed, Daniel sat alone for a few minutes.
His Bible was open to Ephesians 2.
He thought about Rachel.
She hadn't used Scripture as a weapon against her boss.
She hadn't treated herself as spiritually superior.
She had respected his authority as her employer right up to the point where following his instruction would have required her to violate what she knew was right.
Then she had prayed for him.
Daniel realized something.
Being seated with Christ wasn't about looking down on other people.
It wasn't about claiming a spiritual rank.
It wasn't pretending earthly problems weren't real.
It was knowing where your life was anchored when everything around you could change.
Rachel's job could have disappeared.
The promotion could have disappeared.
The extra income could have disappeared.
But none of those things had given Rachel her identity.
And none of them could take it away.
Her life was hidden somewhere deeper.
In Christ.
Daniel closed his Bible.
From down the hallway came Lily's voice.
“Dad!”
Daniel looked toward the ceiling.
“Lord, apparently being seated doesn't mean staying seated.”
He got up.
“What is it, Lily?”
“Sadie's in my bed!”
Daniel stopped in the hallway.
“Why is Sadie in your bed?”
Lily answered as though the question were ridiculous.
“Because she's sleeping.”
Daniel walked into the room.
Sadie was stretched comfortably across the foot of Lily's bed.
“Sadie. Down.”
Sadie looked at him.
She did not move.
Lily whispered, “She's seated.”
Daniel stared at the dog.
“Wrong theological category.”
From the other room Ethan laughed.
Some things, apparently, still required work.
Scripture for the Journey
Ephesians 2:4–6 — NKJV
God, rich in mercy and great in love, has made those who belong to Christ alive together with Him, raised them up together, and seated them together in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus.
The Light to Carry
Being seated with Christ does not mean Christians are above other people.
It does not mean earthly authority should be ignored.
And it does not mean difficult circumstances are unreal.
It means our position before God rests in what Jesus Christ has accomplished, not in circumstances, feelings, employment, income, status, or human approval.
Rachel's boss had genuine authority in her workplace.
Rachel could respect that authority.
She could work faithfully under that authority.
But when obedience to a human authority would require her to participate in something she believed was dishonest, Rachel had to remember who ultimately was Lord of her life.
She could refuse without becoming rebellious.
She could stand without becoming proud.
She could speak truth without making her boss her enemy.
And she could pray for the person putting pressure on her.
That is important.
Rachel did not pray merely for God to remove the problem.
She prayed that her boss would see the truth and choose what was right.
And she prayed that God would correct her too if she had misunderstood.
Her security wasn't found in winning the confrontation.
It wasn't even found in keeping the job.
Her security was In Christ.
The outcome eventually changed.
But Rachel's position had not.
She was seated with Christ before her boss corrected the books.
She was seated with Christ while she was afraid.
She was seated with Christ when she didn't know whether she would have a job Monday morning.
And she was seated with Christ after the situation was resolved.
That's the difference between our circumstances and our position.
Circumstances change.
Christ does not.
And because we are In Him, we can obey from a place of belonging rather than trying to earn one.
We don't stand for truth so that God will accept us.
We stand for truth because, in Christ, He already has.
And as Daniel and Rachel were about to discover, being seated with Christ wasn't the end of what God had revealed.
Just a few verses farther down the page was another truth waiting for them:
Created in Christ Jesus for good works.
But that would be the next part of their journey.
In Christ.
Journey 30 — Created for His Purpose
Daniel has spent months discovering who he is In Christ.
Redeemed. Accepted. Chosen. A new creation. Seated with Christ.
But Ephesians 2:10 raises a new question:
What has God created me to do?
As Daniel looks back over his life, he begins to recognize something he hadn't seen before. Music, work, marriage, fatherhood, serving quietly at church, Pastor Nash's discipleship—even twenty-five years of knowing religion without truly knowing Jesus.
God didn't cause every difficult chapter.
But He can redeem them.
Then Daniel notices a new man sitting near the back of church.
His name is Mike.
And suddenly Daniel begins to understand that God's purpose may not always be some great assignment waiting in the future.
Sometimes it's a person God has placed right in front of you.
Scripture for the Journey: Ephesians 2:8–10
We aren't saved by good works. We are saved by grace—and created in Christ Jesus for good works.
Listen To Journey 30
In Christ
Journey 30 — Created for His Purpose
The house was unusually quiet.
Not completely quiet.
With Ethan, Lily, and Sadie under the same roof, completely quiet usually meant someone was doing something they were not supposed to be doing.
But for the moment, Daniel sat at the kitchen table with his Bible open and his notebook beside it.
Rachel had gone upstairs to put away laundry. Ethan was working on homework. Lily was somewhere in the house with Sadie, which Daniel had decided was information he probably should not think about too deeply.
His eyes returned to the verse he had found at the end of their last conversation.
Ephesians 2:10.
He read it again.
“For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them.”
Daniel leaned back.
“His workmanship.”
He picked up his pen and wrote the words across the top of the page.
CREATED FOR HIS PURPOSE — EPHESIANS 2:10
Then underneath:
What has God created me to do?
He stared at the question.
A few minutes later, Rachel walked into the kitchen carrying an empty laundry basket.
She stopped.
Daniel was still staring at the notebook.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to figure out my purpose.”
Rachel set the basket down.
“How long have you been doing that?”
Daniel glanced at the clock.
“About twenty minutes.”
“And?”
“Apparently, it’s well hidden.”
Rachel smiled and pulled out the chair across from him.
“Maybe you’re looking too hard.”
Daniel turned the Bible toward her.
“Look at this. ‘Created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them.’”
“I know the verse.”
“Then why are you showing it to me?”
“Because I think I’ve been reading right past something.”
Rachel leaned closer.
Daniel pointed to the beginning.
“‘For we are His workmanship.’”
Rachel nodded.
“Not mine.”
“No.”
“His.”
“Yes.”
Daniel sat back.
“So if I’m His workmanship, and He created me in Christ Jesus for good works . . .”
Rachel waited.
“What has He been making me for?”
Rachel’s expression changed.
“That’s a better question.”
Daniel looked down at his notebook.
“I keep thinking about worship. Maybe that’s it. Maybe everything has been leading toward that.”
“Maybe.”
“Or maybe someday teaching. Or helping Pastor Nash more. Maybe there’s something bigger God wants me to do.”
Rachel was quiet for a moment.
“Why does it have to be bigger?”
Daniel looked up.
“I didn’t say it had to be.”
“You kind of did.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You said worship. Teaching. Helping Pastor Nash. Then you said something bigger.”
Daniel stared at her.
Rachel smiled.
“You’re looking for a job description.”
Daniel looked back at the verse.
“Maybe.”
Rachel reached across the table and tapped the Bible.
“But it says ‘walk in them.’”
Daniel looked at the words again.
“Walk.”
“Maybe purpose isn’t only something you’re supposed to find.”
She stood and picked up the laundry basket.
“Maybe it’s something you’re supposed to walk in.”
Daniel watched her leave.
“That was annoyingly good.”
From the hallway Rachel called back.
“I know.”
Daniel smiled.
Then he looked at the notebook again.
What has God been preparing me for?
This time, instead of staring at the blank page, Daniel began to write.
Guitar.
He stopped.
He had played long before he ever understood worship.
For years, music had simply been something he enjoyed. Something he could do.
Now the same hands that had once played for himself were being used to lead people in worship.
He wrote another word.
Work.
Years of showing up. Being responsible. Learning to deal with people. Solving problems. Doing things when he did not feel like doing them.
Then another.
Marriage.
He paused.
That one was harder.
Daniel looked toward the stairs.
He knew enough now not to rewrite his past and pretend everything that happened had been God’s plan.
Some things had happened because of choices.
His own choices.
Other people’s choices.
And some things simply came with living in a broken world.
But God had not wasted any of it.
Daniel wrote:
God does not have to cause something to redeem it.
He stared at the sentence.
Then added:
Fatherhood.
Ethan and Lily had taught him things about himself he had never known.
Patience.
Responsibility.
Protection.
Correction.
Love that stayed even when somebody messed up.
Then:
Cleaning the church.
Daniel laughed quietly.
He remembered when Pastor Nash had asked him and Rachel to serve as janitors for a season.
It had not looked much like a calling.
There had been no microphone.
No guitar.
No applause.
Mostly trash cans, bathrooms, floors, chairs, and being there whenever the doors opened.
But something had happened during those months.
Daniel had learned to serve when nobody was watching.
He wrote:
Pastor Nash.
Teaching.
Correction.
Encouragement.
Questions.
Discipleship.
Daniel stopped.
He looked at the page.
Something was beginning to take shape.
Not one event.
Not one calling.
Pieces.
Things God had used.
Things Daniel had thought were unrelated.
Rachel came back into the room.
“You’re still at it?”
“I think I found something.”
“That quickly?”
“Very funny.”
He turned the notebook toward her.
Rachel read the list.
Then she looked at Daniel.
“You forgot something.”
“What?”
“Twenty-five years. ”
Daniel’s smile disappeared.
He knew exactly what she meant.
“I wouldn’t put that under qualifications.”
“I would.”
“Rachel, I spent twenty-five years thinking I knew God when I didn’t really know Him.”
“I know.”
“That isn’t exactly something to be proud of.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
Daniel waited.
Rachel sat down again.
“But you know what it feels like.”
“What?”
“To sit in church and think everything is okay because you’re in church.”
Daniel said nothing.
“You know the language. You know the routine. You know what it’s like to believe in God and still not understand what it means to have a relationship with Jesus.”
Daniel looked down at the page.
Rachel continued softly.
“Maybe God didn’t cause you to spend those years that way.”
She reached across and put her hand over his.
“But that doesn’t mean He can’t redeem them.”
Daniel swallowed.
Rachel’s voice softened.
“Maybe none of it has to be wasted.”
For several seconds, Daniel could not answer.
Finally, he wrote one more thing.
Twenty-five years of religion without relationship.
Then beneath it:
Redeemed, not wasted.
Sunday morning, Daniel arrived early.
He checked his guitar, helped with a microphone problem, moved two chairs someone had apparently decided belonged in the middle of a walkway, and found Pastor Nash near the front.
“Everything ready?”
Pastor Nash looked around.
“Ask me again five minutes after service starts.”
Daniel laughed.
He was walking toward the platform when he noticed a man sitting several rows from the back.
Alone.
There was nothing particularly unusual about him.
Except Daniel knew that look.
The man was watching everything.
Not criticizing.
Not participating.
Watching.
Daniel stopped.
For a moment, he remembered his own first visits.
The raised hands.
The flags.
The freedom.
People worshiping as though they actually expected God to be there.
Daniel had not known what to do with any of it.
He looked toward the platform.
He had things to finish.
Then he looked back at the man.
Something inside him quietly nudged.
Go say hello.
Daniel almost dismissed it.
Then he remembered something else he had been learning.
Not every thought was God.
But nothing about greeting someone contradicted Scripture.
Daniel walked toward him.
“Morning.”
The man looked up.
“Morning.”
“First time?”
The man gave a small smile.
“Is it that obvious?”
“Only because I used to sit where you’re sitting.”
The man glanced toward the front.
“First time here.”
“Not first time in church?”
“No.. I grew up in church.”
Daniel nodded.
“Me too.”
“My name’s Mike.”
“Daniel.”
They shook hands.
Mike glanced toward Daniel’s guitar.
“You play?”
“Yeah. I help lead worship.”
Mike looked toward the front again.
“This is a little different from what I’m used to.”
Daniel smiled.
“I know that feeling too.”
Mike laughed.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Daniel asked, “What brought you here?”
Mike’s expression changed.
He looked down at his hands.
“I’m not sure.”
Daniel didn’t push.
Mike finally continued.
“Things at home aren’t going great.”
“I’m sorry.”
“My wife and I . . .”
He stopped.
Daniel waited.
“We’ve been fighting a lot.”
Mike looked uncomfortable.
“And my son’s been getting into some trouble. Nothing huge yet. But enough that I’m worried about where he’s headed.”
Daniel sat in the chair beside him.
Mike looked surprised.
“You don’t have to—”
“It’s okay.”
Mike nodded.
“I keep thinking I’m supposed to know what to do. I’m his dad.”
Daniel understood that feeling.
“But I don’t.”
Mike looked toward the front of the sanctuary.
“My wife said something the other night.”
“What?”
“She said, ‘We can’t keep living like this.’”
Daniel remained quiet.
“She wasn’t threatening to leave. At least I don’t think she was. She just . . .”
Mike rubbed his hands together.
“She’s right.”
“So you came here.”
Mike nodded.
“I figured maybe I needed to get serious about church again.”
Something inside Daniel went still.
Church.
Not Jesus.
Church.
Daniel had used language like that for years.
“I believe in God,” Mike added quickly. “I’ve always believed in God.”
Daniel looked at him.
“So did I.”
Mike turned toward him.
Daniel did not say anything else.
Not yet.
A few seconds later, someone called from the platform.
“Daniel, we need you.”
Daniel stood.
“I’d better go.”
Mike nodded.
Daniel took a step and stopped.
“Mike?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you came.”
Something in Mike’s face softened.
“Thanks.”
Daniel walked toward the platform.
But his mind was no longer on the list in his notebook.
After service, Daniel was putting away his guitar when he saw Mike again.
He was still there.
Most people had begun leaving.
Daniel walked over.
“So?”
Mike looked at him.
“So what?”
“You survived.”
Mike laughed.
“Barely.”
“The flags?”
“The flags.”
Daniel grinned.
“I knew it.”
Mike looked toward the sanctuary.
“I’ve never seen people worship like that.”
“Neither had I.”
“Does everybody here know what they’re doing?”
Daniel laughed.
“Absolutely not.”
Mike smiled.
“You looked like you did.”
“That’s because you were far enough away.”
Mike laughed again.
Then his expression became serious.
“You said you grew up in church.”
“Yeah.”
“And you said you always believed in God.”
“Yeah.”
Mike waited.
Daniel knew the question was coming.
“So what changed?”
There it was.
Daniel looked across the sanctuary.
Months earlier, he might have tried to come up with the perfect answer.
Now he simply told the truth.
“I met Jesus.”
Mike frowned slightly.
“I thought you said you were already a Christian.”
“I thought I was.”
Mike said nothing.
“I knew about Him,” Daniel continued. “I went to church. I knew how church worked. I believed God existed.”
Daniel paused.
“But I didn’t know Him.”
Mike looked toward the floor.
Daniel did not press.
He did not try to finish the conversation.
He did not try to force a decision.
Finally Mike asked, “How long did that go on?”
“About twenty-five years.”
Mike’s head came up.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“And now you’re leading worship?”
Daniel glanced toward his guitar.
“You’d be surprised.”
Mike smiled.
Daniel did too.
Then Mike said quietly, “Maybe we could talk again sometime.”
“I’d like that.”
“You going to be here Wednesday?”
Daniel laughed.
“Yeah.”
“You work here or something?”
“No..”
Daniel looked around the sanctuary.
“Apparently I just never leave.”
Mike laughed.
“I’ll try to come.”
“Good.”
Daniel watched him walk toward the door.
Then he stood there for several seconds.
Twenty-five years.
For the first time, Daniel saw those years differently.
Not good.
Not God’s best.
Not something God had needed Daniel to experience.
But redeemed.
Daniel knew exactly what Mike meant when he said he believed in God.
Daniel knew exactly what it meant to confuse church attendance with relationship.
He knew because he had lived it.
And now God had placed someone in front of him who might need what Daniel had learned.
That afternoon, Daniel was back at the kitchen table.
Rachel walked in.
“How did it go with the new guy?”
Daniel looked up.
“How did you know?”
“I have eyes.”
“You were watching me?”
“You sat down beside a man five minutes before you were supposed to be on the platform.”
“I had time.”
“You had approximately no time.”
Daniel smiled.
“His name is Mike.”
Rachel sat down.
Daniel told her about the conversation.
The marriage.
His son.
Growing up in church.
Believing in God.
Getting serious about church again.
Then Daniel told her what Mike had asked after service.
“So what did you tell him?”
“The truth.”
“That narrows it down.”
Daniel smiled.
“I told him I spent twenty-five years in church and still needed Jesus.”
Rachel was quiet.
Then Daniel turned his notebook around.
At the bottom of the page he had written another sentence.
Maybe the thing I thought disqualified me is something God can redeem to help someone else.
Rachel read it twice.
“That’s good.”
“I kept looking for my purpose.”
“And?”
Daniel glanced toward the Bible.
“I think I was looking for one big thing.”
Rachel waited.
“A ministry. Worship. Some assignment.”
He tapped the notebook.
“But maybe God has been preparing pieces all along.”
Rachel nodded.
“Music. Work. Serving. Being a husband. Becoming a dad. Pastor Nash teaching me. Even knowing what it feels like to sit in church without really knowing Jesus.”
He looked at Rachel.
“What if God has been subtly placing things in our lives, teaching us, shaping us, preparing us . . . and then one day an opportunity is standing right in front of us?”
Rachel thought for a moment.
“Maybe.”
Daniel smiled.
“Only maybe?”
“I’m thinking.”
“That usually costs me something.”
Rachel ignored him.
“I think we have to be careful.”
“About what?”
“About looking backward and saying God caused everything that happened because He wanted to teach us something.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
“That’s not what I mean.”
“I know. But somebody could hear it that way.”
Daniel looked at his earlier note.
God does not have to cause something to redeem it.
He pointed to it.
“That.”
Rachel read it.
“Yes.”
Daniel picked up his pen.
“God didn’t need me lost for twenty-five years.”
“No.”
“He wanted me to know Him.”
“Yes.”
“But now that those years are behind me . . .”
Rachel finished it.
“He can redeem them.”
Daniel nodded.
“And use what you learned to help Mike.”
They sat quietly.
Then Rachel looked again at Ephesians 2:10.
“Read the whole section.”
Daniel backed up.
He read about salvation being by grace through faith.
Not something they had earned.
Not something produced by works.
Then he reached verse 10 again.
“For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them.”
Rachel pointed to the page.
“There’s the order.”
Daniel saw it.
“Grace first.”
“Yes.”
“Works after.”
“Yes.”
Daniel leaned back.
“So the works don’t make me His.”
“No.”
“They come because I already am His.”
Rachel smiled.
“There you go.”
Daniel wrote:
Good works are not the root of my salvation. They are fruit of the new life God has given me.
Then another thought came.
“Rachel.”
“Hmm?”
“Friday.”
“What about it?”
“Your boss.”
Rachel looked at him.
“You were trying to figure out God’s purpose too.”
“I was trying to keep my job.”
“Exactly.”
Rachel laughed.
Daniel continued.
“You didn’t preach. You weren’t at church. Nobody applauded. You just decided you wouldn’t lie.”
Rachel grew thoughtful.
“You prayed for your boss. You went back. You told the truth. You treated him with respect.”
Daniel pointed at the verse.
“What if that was part of walking in the good works God prepared for you?”
Rachel looked down.
“I hadn’t thought about it that way.”
“Purpose doesn’t always look like ministry.”
“No.”
“Sometimes it looks like bookkeeping.”
Rachel smiled.
“That’s not going on a T-shirt.”
Daniel laughed.
Later that evening, Ethan wandered into the kitchen.
“What are you guys talking about?”
“Purpose,” Daniel said.
Ethan climbed onto a chair.
“What’s my purpose?”
Daniel opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
He looked toward the hallway.
“Right now?”
“Yeah.”
“I think part of it may involve putting your clothes away.”
Ethan frowned.
“That’s not a purpose.”
Daniel nodded solemnly.
“It may have been prepared beforehand.”
Rachel looked at him.
“Daniel.”
“What?”
“Don’t misuse Scripture.”
“I wasn’t misusing it. I was creatively applying it.”
Ethan laughed.
Then he became serious.
“No, really. What’s my purpose?”
Daniel looked at his son.
“You don’t have to wait until you’re grown up to matter to God.”
Ethan listened.
“You belong to Jesus now. So you can love people now. You can tell the truth now. You can help somebody now. You can forgive now. You can pray now.”
“So purpose isn’t just what job I have someday?”
“No.”
Daniel put his hand on Ethan’s shoulder.
“It’s about who you belong to and how you walk with Him today.”
Ethan nodded.
From the hallway came Lily’s voice.
“Dad!”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Yes, Lily?”
“Sadie did something!”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
“That sentence has never ended well.”
They walked into the living room.
Lily stood beside Sadie.
The dog was wearing one of Lily’s small backpacks.
Daniel stared.
“Why is Sadie wearing a backpack?”
“She has a purpose.”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
Rachel covered her mouth.
Lily nodded seriously.
“She carries things.”
Daniel looked at Sadie.
Sadie looked back at him.
“What exactly is she carrying?”
Lily opened the backpack.
Inside were two socks.
Daniel nodded slowly.
“Of course.”
Lily smiled.
“She found her calling.”
Daniel pointed toward the stairs.
“Put the socks back.”
Lily picked up the backpack.
“Come on, Sadie.”
As they disappeared down the hallway, Rachel leaned against Daniel.
“Think that was prepared beforehand?”
Daniel watched Sadie climb the stairs wearing the backpack.
“No..”
He shook his head.
“I’m putting that one under free will.”
Rachel laughed.
Later, after the children were in bed, Daniel opened his notebook one more time.
He read everything he had written.
Then he added:
I don’t work for God so I can become His workmanship.
I can walk in His purpose because, in Christ, I already am His workmanship.
Below it:
Purpose is not always one great assignment waiting somewhere in the future. Sometimes it is recognizing what God has placed in front of me today.
Daniel thought about Mike.
Then he added one final line.
Maybe one of the good works God prepared for me isn’t something to do.
Maybe it’s someone to love.
Rachel read over his shoulder.
“Mike?”
Daniel nodded.
“I don’t know what God is doing.”
“You don’t have to.”
“No.”
Daniel closed the notebook.
“I just have to walk.”
Scripture for the Journey
Ephesians 2:8–10
We are saved by grace through faith. Salvation is God’s gift, not something we earn by our works. Yet the very next verse says that we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand for us to walk in.
The order matters.
We don’t do good works so that God will save us.
Because He has saved us in Christ, He gives us a new life that can produce good works.
God can use abilities He has given us, lessons we have learned, people who have discipled us, opportunities to serve, and even experiences from our past that He did not cause but chooses to redeem.
Nothing surrendered to Christ has to be wasted.
Esther 4:14 gives us a picture of a moment when preparation, position, and opportunity came together—“for such a time as this.”
Our circumstances will be different from Esther’s, but the question is worth asking:
What has God been developing in me that He can use for His purposes today?
The Light to Carry
Finding God’s purpose does not always begin with asking:
“What great thing am I supposed to do?”
Sometimes it begins with:
“Lord, what have You already placed in front of me?”
A family to love.
A child to teach.
A job where integrity matters.
A church to serve.
A gift to surrender.
A hurting person to listen to.
A testimony that can point somebody else toward Jesus.
Some of our preparation may be obvious only when we look backward.
But we should never assume that everything painful in our past was sent by God just to prepare us. We live in a fallen world. People make choices. We make choices.
The good news is that God is a Redeemer.
He can take what was broken and bring something useful from it.
He can take what once brought shame and turn it into compassion.
He can take the person who once sat in church without knowing Christ and use him to recognize someone sitting in the same place.
We are not saved by good works.
We are saved by grace through faith.
But once we are In Christ, we discover that we have been created for good works.
We are His workmanship.
And sometimes purpose isn’t waiting somewhere far down the road.
Sometimes it’s sitting a few rows from the back, wondering whether there’s something more.
Daniel thought he was looking for his purpose.
Perhaps God was teaching him something greater.
Don’t just look for your purpose.
Walk with Christ—and be ready when His purpose is standing in front of you.
And for Daniel Walker, the next step in that walk may have a name.
Mike.
Because sooner or later, everyone who belongs to Christ begins to discover another part of who they are:
They have been sent to represent Him.
Next Journey: Ambassadors for Christ.
Journey 31 — Ambassadors for Christ
Daniel has been learning who he is In Christ. Now he is beginning to discover what happens when God places someone in front of him who needs to hear about Jesus.
When Mike returns to church with questions, Daniel's first instinct is to find Pastor Nash.
But Pastor Nash has another idea:
“Tell him the truth. Show him the Word. Answer what you can. And let the Holy Spirit do what only He can do.”
Daniel discovers that being an ambassador for Christ doesn't require having every answer. It means faithfully representing the One who sent you.
And the testimony of twenty-five years spent knowing about Jesus without truly knowing Him becomes something God can redeem to help another man find Christ.
Scripture for the Journey: 2 Corinthians 5:17–20
We don't represent ourselves. We represent the One who sent us.
Listen To Journey 31
In Christ
Journey 31 — Ambassadors for Christ
The Wednesday evening service was still more than half an hour away when Daniel walked into the sanctuary.
He had his guitar in one hand and his Bible tucked beneath his arm.
By now, arriving early had become normal.
There had been a time when Daniel measured church by when the service started and when it ended.
Now he seemed to measure it by how much needed to be done before everyone else arrived.
He set his guitar near the platform and looked around.
A few people were already there. Someone was checking the sound system. Another person was straightening chairs.
Pastor Nash walked through carrying a stack of papers.
Daniel nodded toward them.
“Need help?”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“I was wondering how long it would take you to ask.”
Daniel shook his head.
“I walked right into that.”
“You usually do.”
Daniel took half the stack.
Then he glanced toward the back of the sanctuary.
And stopped.
Mike was sitting almost exactly where he had been Sunday morning.
Daniel smiled.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Pastor Nash followed his eyes.
“Friend of yours?”
“I think he might be.”
Daniel handed the papers back.
Pastor Nash looked at the stack now returned to him.
“So much for your servant’s heart.”
“I’ll be back.”
Daniel headed toward Mike.
Mike saw him coming.
Daniel grinned.
“You came back.”
Mike stood.
“You said you’d be here.”
“I say a lot of things.”
Mike smiled.
“I’m beginning to notice.”
Daniel laughed.
“Glad you came.”
“Almost didn’t.”
Daniel’s smile faded slightly.
“What changed your mind?”
Mike looked around the sanctuary.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said Sunday.”
“What part?”
Mike hesitated.
“That you went to church for twenty-five years . . . but you didn’t really know Jesus.”
Daniel nodded.
“Yeah.”
“I haven’t been able to get that out of my head.”
Daniel sat down in the chair beside him.
Mike leaned forward.
“I grew up in church. I believe in God. I know Bible stories. I know Christmas and Easter. I know how church works.”
Daniel smiled faintly.
“You’re describing me.”
“That’s what bothers me.”
Mike looked at him.
“How do you know the difference?”
Daniel didn’t answer immediately.
It was strange.
He had lived the answer.
But explaining it to someone else suddenly felt different.
“I knew about Jesus,” Daniel finally said. “I believed He existed. I believed He was the Son of God.”
Mike nodded.
“So do I.”
“But I was trusting in the fact that I believed those things. I was trusting that I went to church. That I was a decent person.”
Daniel paused.
“I knew information about Jesus. But I had never surrendered my life to Him.”
Mike stared toward the front of the sanctuary.
“So what changed?”
Daniel thought about that second Sunday.
The worship.
The realization that twenty-five years had passed while he had mistaken religion for relationship.
The tears he couldn’t stop.
“I met Jesus.”
Mike looked at him.
“You said that Sunday.”
“I know.”
“What does that mean?”
Daniel opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
“I’m going to get Pastor Nash.”
Mike looked surprised.
“Did I ask something wrong?”
“No..”
Daniel stood.
“You asked something really important.”
He walked toward the platform and found Pastor Nash setting his papers on a chair.
“Pastor Nash?”
“Yes?”
“I need you.”
Pastor Nash looked toward Mike.
“What’s going on?”
“He wants to know what it means to actually know Jesus instead of just knowing about Him.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“That’s a good question.”
“Exactly.”
“What did you tell him?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Some of my testimony.”
“And?”
“And then I came to get you.”
Pastor Nash looked at him for a moment.
“Why?”
Daniel stared at him.
“Because you’re the pastor.”
“And?”
“And I’m not.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“Did Jesus save you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what He saved you from?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what He has done in your life?”
Daniel nodded.
“Then go tell him.”
Daniel looked toward Mike and then back at Pastor Nash.
“That’s your answer?”
“That’s my answer.”
“I thought you were going to come over there.”
“I might eventually.”
Pastor Nash put a hand on Daniel’s shoulder.
“But Daniel, you don’t have to know everything to help Mike.”
Daniel listened.
“Just faithfully tell him what you do know.”
Pastor Nash paused.
“And don’t try to be the Holy Spirit.”
Daniel smiled.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“You’ll be tempted.”
The smile disappeared.
Pastor Nash continued.
“Tell him the truth. Show him the Word. Answer what you can. If you don’t know something, say you don’t know.”
Then he pointed gently toward Mike.
“And let the Holy Spirit do what only He can do.”
Daniel nodded.
“All right.”
He turned to go.
“Daniel?”
He looked back.
Pastor Nash smiled.
“You asked God what He created you to do.”
Daniel remembered the words in his notebook.
Maybe one of the good works God prepared for me isn’t something to do.
Maybe it’s someone to love.
He looked toward Mike.
“Yeah.”
Pastor Nash nodded.
“Go walk in it.”
Daniel returned to his seat beside Mike.
Mike raised an eyebrow.
“Where’s the pastor?”
“He refused to help me.”
Mike stared at him.
Daniel smiled.
“Apparently, I’m the help.”
Mike laughed.
Then the seriousness returned.
“My wife keeps telling me our family needs God.”
Daniel listened.
“I keep telling her we believe in God.”
Mike rubbed his hands together.
“But Sunday . . .”
He stopped.
“What?”
“I realized I don’t even know what I’m telling her.”
Daniel waited.
Mike continued.
“Brenda and I have been fighting a lot. And my son . . .”
He shook his head.
“He’s starting to get into some trouble. Nothing huge yet. But enough that I know where it could go.”
Mike looked down.
“I keep thinking I’m supposed to know what to do. I’m his dad.”
His voice grew quieter.
“But I don’t.”
Daniel understood more than Mike knew.
“Brenda told me, ‘We can’t keep living like this.’”
“Do you think she’s leaving?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think that’s what she meant.”
Mike shook his head.
“And the worst part is . . . she’s right.”
He looked at Daniel.
“I thought maybe I needed to get serious about church again.”
Daniel remembered those words from Sunday.
Church.
Not Jesus.
“Mike, can I show you something?”
“Sure.”
Daniel opened his Bible.
He turned to 2 Corinthians.
“I’ve been studying this verse recently.”
He found the passage and read.
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.”
Mike looked at the page.
“New creation.”
“Yeah.”
Daniel smiled.
“I’ve spent a lot of time on that one.”
He started to close the Bible.
Then stopped.
His eyes moved to the next verse.
He read silently.
Then the next.
Mike noticed.
“What?”
Daniel didn’t answer.
He kept reading.
“Daniel?”
“I stopped too soon.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve read verse seventeen plenty of times. But listen to what comes after it.”
Daniel read from the passage about God reconciling people to Himself through Jesus Christ and giving believers the ministry and word of reconciliation.
Then he reached verse twenty.
“Now then, we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were pleading through us . . .”
Daniel stopped.
Mike waited.
Daniel looked at the passage again.
“New creation isn’t the end of the thought.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither did I until about thirty seconds ago.”
Daniel pointed at the page.
“God reconciles us to Himself through Christ . . . and then He sends us to represent Him to somebody else.”
Mike smiled slightly.
“So now you’re an ambassador?”
Daniel looked toward Pastor Nash.
“Apparently without adequate training.”
Mike laughed.
Daniel did too.
Then he became serious.
“But I can tell you what happened to me.”
Mike nodded.
“For twenty-five years, I thought I was okay with God because I believed in Him. I went to church. I knew the language. I knew how to look like I belonged there.”
Daniel paused.
“But knowing about Jesus isn’t the same thing as belonging to Jesus.”
“So what did you do?”
“I stopped trusting religion to save me.”
Daniel looked directly at him.
“And I put my trust in Jesus Christ.”
Mike was quiet.
Daniel continued.
“I couldn’t save myself. Being a decent person couldn’t save me. Going to church couldn’t save me. I needed Jesus.”
Mike leaned back.
“I came here because I thought I needed to fix my family.”
Daniel thought for a moment.
“Maybe God brought you here because He wants to start with you.”
Mike looked down.
For several moments neither man spoke.
Finally Mike said, “What if I don’t know how?”
“How to fix everything?”
“How to do any of this.”
Daniel smiled.
“I still don’t.”
Mike looked at him.
“You’re leading worship.”
“You’d be surprised how little that proves.”
Mike laughed quietly.
Then Daniel said, “Mike, Jesus isn’t asking you to get your marriage fixed first. Or straighten your son out first. Or become religious enough.”
He opened his Bible again.
“He’s asking you to come to Him.”
Mike stared at the floor.
“What do I do?”
Daniel felt the weight of the question.
Not fear.
Responsibility.
He remembered Pastor Nash’s words.
Tell him the truth.
Show him the Word.
Let the Holy Spirit do what only He can do.
Daniel spoke slowly.
“Turn from trying to live life without Him. Believe that Jesus Christ died for your sins and rose again. Put your trust in Him—not in church, not in being good enough, not in me.”
Mike looked up.
“In Him.”
“In Him.”
Mike swallowed.
“I believe Jesus is the Son of God.”
Daniel nodded.
“Then talk to Him.”
“Right here?”
Daniel smiled.
“He can hear you from that chair.”
Mike looked around.
People were still preparing for service.
A microphone squealed briefly from the platform.
Someone moved a music stand.
Nothing about the room became dramatic.
But Mike bowed his head.
Daniel did too.
Mike’s prayer wasn’t polished.
It wasn’t long.
He admitted that he had tried to run his own life.
He admitted his sin.
He told Jesus that he needed Him.
He said he believed Jesus died for him and rose again.
And he asked Jesus Christ to be Lord of his life.
When Mike finished, neither man spoke immediately.
Then Mike raised his head.
“That’s it?”
Daniel smiled.
“If you mean, ‘Did I say enough words?’ That isn’t what saved you.”
Mike looked confused.
“Jesus did.”
Daniel tapped the Bible.
“You trusted Him.”
Mike sat quietly.
“My family’s still a mess.”
Daniel almost laughed, but he could see Mike wasn’t joking.
“Yeah.”
“My son’s still getting into trouble.”
“Probably.”
“And Brenda and I still have problems.”
“Yes.”
Mike looked at him.
“So what changed?”
Daniel thought about his own second Sunday.
His job hadn’t changed.
His past hadn’t disappeared.
His circumstances hadn’t suddenly become perfect.
But something had happened that changed everything.
“You did.”
Mike looked at him.
Daniel smiled.
“Actually . . . let me correct that.”
He pointed again to 2 Corinthians 5:17.
“In Christ, you already have.”
Wednesday service began.
Daniel stood on the platform with his guitar.
For the first time, he understood something about worship leadership he had never considered before.
He wasn’t standing there to display his ability.
He wasn’t even there primarily because he loved music.
He was representing Someone.
An ambassador.
The thought made him feel that familiar shakiness again.
But this time he welcomed it.
It reminded him that the platform did not belong to him.
Neither did the message.
And neither did the glory.
From the platform Daniel saw Mike several rows back.
Mike wasn’t singing much.
He mostly watched.
That was all right.
Daniel remembered watching too.
After service, Pastor Nash found Daniel putting away his guitar.
“Well?”
Daniel looked at him.
“Well what?”
“You know exactly what.”
Daniel tried unsuccessfully not to smile.
“He gave his life to Jesus.”
Pastor Nash smiled.
“Praise God.”
Daniel nodded.
Then he said, “You could have helped.”
“I did.”
“You walked away.”
Pastor Nash laughed.
“Daniel, someday you’re going to discover that discipleship includes knowing when to step in and when to step back.”
Daniel zipped the guitar case.
“I preferred it when you answered my questions.”
“I still answer your questions.”
“You answer them with other questions.”
“That’s because you’re growing.”
Daniel groaned.
“That seems unfair.”
Pastor Nash put a hand on his shoulder.
“Daniel, listen to me.”
His voice became serious.
“You didn’t save Mike tonight.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t convince him.”
Daniel nodded.
“The Holy Spirit had already been working before Mike ever walked through those doors.”
Pastor Nash glanced toward the sanctuary.
“You simply represented Christ faithfully when God put someone in front of you.”
Daniel thought about the word.
“Ambassador.”
“Exactly.”
Later that evening, Daniel sat at the kitchen table with Rachel.
She was drinking tea while Daniel told her everything.
When he finished, Rachel stared at him.
“Pastor Nash refused to help you?”
“Basically.”
Rachel laughed.
“Daniel, you make it sound like he sent you into combat.”
“It felt like combat.”
“You were talking to one man.”
“A man asking questions about eternity.”
Rachel nodded.
“Fair point.”
Daniel opened his notebook.
At the top of a fresh page he wrote:
AMBASSADORS FOR CHRIST — 2 CORINTHIANS 5:20
Below it:
I don’t represent myself. I represent the One who sent me.
Rachel read it.
“That applies to more than talking to Mike.”
Daniel looked up.
“What do you mean?”
“My job.”
He understood immediately.
“The bookkeeping.”
Rachel nodded.
“I never preached to my boss.”
“No.”
“But I still represented Christ when I chose to tell the truth.”
Daniel leaned back.
“So being an ambassador doesn’t always mean standing somewhere preaching.”
“No.”
“It means representing Jesus wherever He puts us.”
Rachel smiled.
“At church.”
“At work.”
“At home.”
“With our children.”
Daniel looked at the notebook.
“My life shouldn’t make people impressed with me.”
Rachel waited.
Daniel wrote:
My life should help people see Jesus.
Ethan walked into the kitchen.
“What are you doing?”
“Studying.”
“What?”
Daniel turned the notebook around.
“Ambassadors for Christ.”
Ethan frowned.
“What’s an ambassador?”
“Someone who represents a king or a country somewhere else.”
“So you’re an ambassador?”
“If I belong to Jesus, I represent Him.”
Ethan thought about it.
“Am I?”
Daniel smiled.
“If you belong to Jesus, you represent Him too.”
“Even at school?”
“Especially at school.”
Ethan made a face.
“That’s harder.”
Daniel nodded.
“Usually is.”
Lily appeared in the doorway.
“Can Sadie be an ambassador?”
Daniel didn’t even hesitate.
“No..”
“Why?”
“Because Sadie is a dog.”
Lily folded her arms.
“She represents our family. ”
Daniel looked at Rachel.
Rachel tried not to laugh.
“Unfortunately, she has a point.”
“Especially when Sadie steals socks,” Daniel said.
Lily smiled.
“She’s a sock ambassador.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Wrong theological category.”
From somewhere down the hallway came the sound of something falling over.
Lily looked toward the noise.
“Sadie!”
She ran from the kitchen.
Daniel listened.
Then he looked at Rachel.
“Do you think other families have conversations like this?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Two evenings later, Daniel’s phone rang.
Mike.
Daniel answered.
“Hey.”
“Daniel?”
“Yeah. What’s going on?”
There was a pause.
“I told Brenda.”
Daniel sat down.
“How did it go?”
“Not how I expected.”
“What happened?”
“I told her about Wednesday. I told her I gave my life to Jesus.”
Mike sighed.
“I thought she’d be happy.”
“She wasn’t?”
“She didn’t get mad.”
Another pause.
“She just looked at me and said, ‘Mike, I’ve heard you say things were going to change before.’”
Daniel didn’t know what to say.
Mike continued.
“I told her this was different.”
“What did she say?”
“She said she hopes it is.”
Daniel heard the disappointment.
“Mike, she may need some time.”
“I know.”
“I mean time to see it.”
Mike was quiet.
Then he said, “What if I mess this up?”
Daniel leaned forward.
“What do you mean?”
“What if I fail again?”
“You will.”
Silence.
Daniel winced.
“That came out wrong.”
Mike laughed despite himself.
“Thanks.”
“You’re going to make mistakes. So am I.”
“But what if I can’t hold onto this?”
Daniel started to answer.
Then stopped.
He remembered Pastor Nash.
If you don’t know something, say you don’t know.
“Mike . . . I want to think about that before I answer you.”
“Okay.”
“But don’t confuse Brenda needing time with God walking away from you.”
Mike was quiet.
“All right.”
“And don’t make her responsible for proving whether what happened Wednesday was real.”
“What do you mean?”
“Follow Jesus because He’s Lord. Love Brenda. Tell the truth. Be patient. Apologize when you’re wrong.”
Daniel paused.
“Let her see Jesus changing you instead of trying to convince her with promises.”
Mike exhaled slowly.
“I can do that.”
“Not by yourself.”
“Right.”
After they hung up, Daniel remained sitting with the phone in his hand.
One sentence kept coming back.
What if I can’t hold onto this?
Daniel went to the bedroom and picked up his Bible.
He returned to the kitchen table.
Rachel had already gone to bed.
The house was quiet.
Daniel opened his Bible.
He didn’t know exactly what he was looking for.
Eventually he found himself in Romans chapter eight.
He read.
Then kept reading.
His eyes slowed.
“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?”
Daniel leaned closer.
Tribulation.
Distress.
Persecution.
Famine.
Nakedness.
Peril.
Sword.
He continued.
“Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.”
Daniel kept reading.
Neither death nor life.
Angels nor principalities nor powers.
Things present nor things to come.
Height nor depth.
Then the final words caught him.
Nothing in all creation would be able to separate those who belong to Christ from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Daniel sat back.
Mike had asked:
What if I can’t hold onto this?
Daniel opened his notebook.
Under the ambassador lesson he turned to another clean page.
For a long time, he simply looked at it.
Then he wrote one question:
If my salvation began with what Christ did . . . what keeps me?
Daniel looked again at Romans 8.
And smiled.
Maybe Mike wasn’t the only one who needed the answer.
Scripture for the Journey
2 Corinthians 5:17–20
The person who is in Christ is a new creation.
But Paul doesn’t stop there.
God reconciles us to Himself through Jesus Christ, and then entrusts to believers the ministry and message of reconciliation.
We become ambassadors for Christ.
An ambassador does not represent himself.
He represents the one who sent him.
That doesn’t mean every believer must stand behind a pulpit.
We represent Christ in our homes, our workplaces, our schools, our churches, and in ordinary conversations with people God places in front of us.
Sometimes that means speaking the gospel clearly.
Sometimes it means telling the truth when dishonesty would be easier.
Sometimes it means forgiving.
Sometimes it means admitting we were wrong.
Sometimes it means simply telling someone what Jesus Christ has done in our own life.
We do not save people.
We do not change hearts.
We faithfully represent Jesus Christ and speak His truth.
The Holy Spirit does what only He can do.
The Light to Carry
You don’t need to know every answer before God can use you.
Daniel didn’t have all the answers for Mike.
He had something else.
A testimony.
He knew what Jesus had done for him.
The man who once sat in church for twenty-five years without truly knowing Christ could now recognize another man doing the same thing.
God did not cause Daniel’s lost years.
But He could redeem them.
And the testimony Daniel once thought might disqualify him became something God used to reach someone else.
That is part of what it means to be an ambassador.
Your testimony is not the gospel—but your testimony can point someone to the One who is.
And sometimes representing Christ means allowing people to watch the change before they believe what you say about it.
Mike has begun a new life.
But Brenda is watching.
His family still needs healing.
And Mike has already discovered another question:
What happens when a new believer fails?
What if I can’t hold onto this?
Romans 8 points us toward the answer.
Because our journey has never ultimately been about how tightly we can hold onto Christ.
It has been about discovering who we are…
In Christ.
Next Journey — Nothing Can Separate Us
Journey 32 — Nothing Can Separate Us
Mike has given his life to Jesus Christ, but a new question is already troubling him:
“What if I can't hold onto this?”
When an old reaction leads to another failure, Mike wonders whether anything has really changed. Daniel takes him to Romans 8 and helps him discover that our confidence was never meant to rest in our ability to live perfectly.
Our confidence is in Christ.
Meanwhile, Brenda is watching the changes taking place in her husband. A conversation with Rachel begins opening another door as one changed life starts touching another.
For Daniel, Rachel, Mike and Brenda, the journey isn't ending.
It's continuing.
Because neither failure, trouble, the past, nor anything yet to come can separate those who belong to Christ from the love of God.
Scripture for the Journey: Romans 8:31–39
Nothing can separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Listen To Journey 32
In Christ
Journey 32 — Nothing Can Separate Us
Morning light stretched across the kitchen table.
Daniel sat with his Bible open to Romans chapter eight.
Beside it was the notebook that had followed him through so much of his journey.
Page after page.
Questions.
Scriptures.
Things Pastor Nash had taught him.
Things Rachel had said that he hadn’t wanted to admit were right.
Daniel smiled.
There were quite a few of those.
But this morning he wasn’t looking backward.
He was thinking about Mike.
One sentence from their phone conversation kept returning.
But what if I can’t hold onto this?
Daniel looked again at Romans chapter eight.
Rachel walked into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee.
“You’re up early.”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“Something wrong?”
“No.. Just thinking.”
Rachel sat across from him.
“About?”
“Mike.”
She waited.
“He asked me something after he talked to Brenda.”
“What?”
Daniel looked down at his Bible.
“He asked what happens if he can’t hold onto this.”
Rachel was quiet for a moment.
“What did you tell him?”
“That I wanted to think about it before I answered.”
Rachel slowly smiled.
Daniel noticed.
“What?”
“Look at you.”
“What?”
“Not answering before you know the answer.”
Daniel leaned back.
“Apparently salvation has changed me more than I realized.”
Rachel laughed.
Then she pointed toward his Bible.
“And?”
“I think I found something.”
Daniel turned the Bible so she could see.
“Romans eight.”
Rachel nodded.
“Keep going.”
“I did.”
Daniel ran his finger down the page.
“Paul talks about suffering. Weakness. The Spirit helping us. God working in our lives.”
He paused.
“Then he gets here.”
Daniel read.
“What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?”
He continued.
“He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all . . .”
Daniel stopped.
“This isn’t about Mike being strong enough.”
Rachel looked at him.
“No..”
Daniel’s eyes returned to the page.
“It’s about Christ.”
A few days later, Daniel met Mike at church.
They sat in the same area where their first real conversation had taken place.
Mike looked tired.
Daniel noticed.
“Rough week?”
Mike laughed without much humor.
“Is it that obvious?”
“Only because I used to sit where you’re sitting.”
Mike looked at him.
“You’ve used that line before.”
“It still works.”
That got a smile.
Daniel leaned back.
“How are things with Brenda?”
“Different.”
“Good different?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Mike rubbed his hands together.
“She hasn’t said much about what happened Wednesday.”
“Give her time.”
“I am.”
Mike hesitated.
“I’m trying to.”
Daniel let him keep going.
“I messed up with my son yesterday.”
“What happened?”
“He came home late. He hadn’t called. Brenda was worried. I was worried.”
Mike shook his head.
“And when he finally walked through the door, I lost it.”
Daniel listened.
“I said some things I shouldn’t have said.”
“What did you do?”
“The same thing I always do.”
Mike looked down.
“At first.”
“What does that mean?”
“I told myself he deserved it.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
“I’ve used that one.”
Mike rubbed his hands together.
“Later, I kept hearing what I’d said.”
Daniel didn’t interrupt.
“So I went to his room.”
“And?”
“I apologized.”
Daniel smiled.
Mike pointed at him.
“Don’t look so surprised.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“Maybe a little.”
Mike shook his head.
“I told him I was wrong.”
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘But I was wrong too.’”
Mike became quiet.
“I told him, ‘That doesn’t make me right.’”
Daniel’s smile faded. He knew how hard that sentence could be.
Mike looked at him.
“What?”
“Nothing. That’s just . . . different.”
“I still lost my temper.”
“Yeah.”
“So how is that different?”
Daniel thought about it.
“Because you went back.”
Mike looked at him.
“You could’ve spent the rest of the night explaining why you were right. Instead, you went back and made it right.”
Mike looked away.
“I apologized to Brenda too.”
Daniel smiled.
“Now I’m impressed.”
“Don’t push it.”
They both laughed.
Then Mike became serious.
“I thought being a Christian meant I wasn’t supposed to mess up anymore.”
Daniel stared at him.
“If that’s the requirement, I have some very bad news for both of us.”
Mike laughed.
Then his expression changed again.
“But that’s what I was asking you about.”
Daniel nodded.
“What if I fail?”
“Yeah.”
“What if I can’t hold onto this?”
Daniel picked up his Bible.
“I’ve been thinking about that.”
“And?”
Daniel opened to Romans chapter eight.
“I’m starting to think I’ve been looking at it backward.”
Mike frowned.
“How?”
“You’re worried about whether you can hold onto Christ tightly enough.”
“I am.”
Daniel looked down at the page.
“I don’t know if that’s where our confidence is supposed to be.”
“Then where?”
“In Him.”
Mike leaned back.
“That sounds easy when you say it.”
“It isn’t.”
Daniel gave a small laugh.
“I’ve messed up since I got saved. More than once.”
“That’s encouraging.”
“I’m serious.”
Daniel pointed toward him.
“What happened with your son mattered. You knew it did. That’s why you went back.”
Mike was quiet.
“So messing up doesn’t matter?”
“No.. That’s not what I’m saying.”
Daniel shook his head.
“If it didn’t matter, you wouldn’t have needed to make it right. But making a mistake didn’t mean you stopped belonging to Christ.”
Mike looked at the Bible.
Daniel turned several pages and stopped.
“You know, I told Ethan something once.”
“Your son?”
“Yeah.”
“He was worried that getting in trouble might change things between us. We were working through his adoption at the time.”
Mike listened.
“I told him, ‘You’re not going to lose me every time you make a mistake.’”
Daniel became quiet for a moment.
“I knew what I meant when I said it to him. I’m not sure I understood yet what God was teaching me through it.”
He turned back to Romans eight.
“Listen to this.”
Daniel began reading from the end of the chapter.
“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?”
Mike listened.
Daniel continued through Paul’s list.
“Tribulation.”
“Distress.”
“Persecution.”
“Famine.”
“Nakedness.”
“Peril.”
“Sword.”
Mike interrupted.
“That’s quite a list.”
“Exactly.”
Daniel looked at him.
“Paul isn’t pretending nothing hard will happen because we belong to Jesus.”
Mike nodded.
“He’s naming the hard things.”
“Right.”
Daniel continued until he reached the words that had stopped him at the kitchen table.
“Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.”
Then he continued.
“Neither death nor life.”
“Angels nor principalities nor powers.”
“Things present nor things to come.”
“Height nor depth.”
“Nor any other created thing.”
Daniel finished:
“Shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
Mike sat silently.
Finally he asked, “Nothing? ”
Daniel looked at the passage.
“That’s what it says.”
“So you’re saying I can’t mess this up?”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.. I’m saying something I’m still learning myself.”
Mike looked at him.
“My confidence can’t be in me never messing up. If it is, I’m in trouble.”
Daniel tapped the Bible.
“It has to be in Christ.”
At home, Brenda was watching too.
Not because Mike had asked her to.
Because she couldn’t help it.
She had heard promises before.
Promises that things would change.
Promises that Mike would do better.
Promises that they would work things out.
She wanted to believe this was different.
But wanting to believe something and trusting it were not the same thing.
Then she started noticing little things.
Mike listened longer.
He defended himself less.
He apologized to their son.
That one stayed with her.
In all their years as parents, Mike had told their son to apologize plenty of times.
She couldn’t remember hearing Mike apologize to him.
A few evenings later, Mike mentioned church.
“I’m going Sunday.”
Brenda nodded.
“Okay.”
He hesitated.
“You want to come?”
She looked at him.
“I don’t know.”
Mike nodded.
“Okay.”
And that was it.
No argument.
No sales pitch.
No explanation about why she needed to go.
He simply let the question sit.
Two days later Brenda found him in the kitchen.
“What time does church start?”
Mike looked up.
“Why?”
“Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re smiling.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
Mike tried unsuccessfully to stop.
“I’m naturally cheerful.”
Brenda stared at him.
“That’s definitely new.”
Sunday morning, Daniel was checking his guitar when he saw Mike enter the sanctuary.
Someone was walking beside him.
A woman.
Mike caught Daniel’s eye.
Daniel smiled.
Mike gave him a look that clearly said:
Don’t make a big deal out of this.
Daniel nodded.
He understood.
Rachel walked over.
“Is that Brenda?”
“I think so.”
“You haven’t met her?”
“No..”
Rachel looked at him.
“You’re Mike’s spiritual advisor and you’ve never met his wife?”
Daniel looked offended.
“I don’t remember accepting that title.”
Rachel smiled.
“I’ll go say hello.”
“Don’t scare her.”
Rachel stopped.
“Daniel.”
“Right. Sorry.”
Rachel walked over.
Mike introduced them.
“Brenda, this is Rachel. Daniel’s wife.”
Brenda smiled.
“I’ve heard about you.”
Rachel glanced toward Daniel.
“I’m sorry.”
Brenda laughed.
Daniel shook his head from across the room.
Somehow he knew he had just been insulted.
Brenda stayed through the service.
She didn’t sing much.
She didn’t raise her hands.
And when the flags appeared, Daniel happened to glance toward her.
Her expression looked strangely familiar.
He nearly laughed.
He remembered that expression.
He had worn it himself.
Afterward Rachel found Brenda again.
“Survived?”
Brenda smiled.
“Barely.”
“The flags?”
“The flags.”
Rachel laughed.
“Daniel said almost the same thing his first time.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes.”
Brenda looked toward Daniel and Mike.
“He’s changed.”
“Daniel?”
“Mike.”
Rachel’s smile softened.
“That’s what Daniel tells me.”
Brenda hesitated.
“I don’t know what to do with it yet.”
“You don’t have to do anything with it today.”
Brenda looked relieved.
Rachel continued.
“Some of the women are having a tea here Saturday.”
“A tea?”
“Nothing complicated. Food. Talking. Probably too many desserts.”
Brenda smiled.
“I don’t really know anybody.”
Rachel looked at her.
“Then you’ll know me.”
Brenda thought about it.
“Maybe.”
Rachel smiled.
“Maybe is fine.”
Saturday afternoon, Brenda came.
Rachel didn’t make a big deal about it. She simply made room beside her.
For a while they talked about ordinary things.
Work.
Children.
Schedules.
After a while Brenda looked down at her cup.
“I almost didn’t come.”
Rachel smiled.
“I wondered.”
“I sat in the parking lot for ten minutes.”
“I’m glad you came in.”
Brenda nodded, but she still looked unsure.
Eventually the conversation became quieter.
“Mike really is different.”
Rachel smiled.
“Different good or different concerning?”
Brenda laughed.
“Good. I think.”
“I’ll take that.”
Brenda hesitated.
“He apologized to our son.”
Rachel stayed quiet.
“That probably doesn’t sound like much.”
“It sounds like something.”
“In all the years we’ve been married, I’ve heard Mike tell our son to apologize plenty of times.”
Brenda looked at Rachel.
“I don’t remember ever hearing Mike apologize to him.”
Rachel nodded.
“He’s listening more too.”
“To you?”
“To everybody.”
Brenda smiled slightly.
“It’s actually a little unsettling.”
Rachel laughed.
“Change can be.”
Then Brenda asked, “Was Daniel always like this?”
Rachel nearly choked on her tea.
“No..”
Brenda laughed.
“That was quick.”
“Sorry.”
“No, that’s probably the most convincing answer you could have given me.”
Rachel looked across the room for a moment.
“When I met Daniel, he believed in God.”
“So did Mike.”
“He had spent years in church.”
“So did Mike.”
“He knew about Jesus.”
Brenda waited.
“But he didn’t know Him.”
Rachel looked at her.
“Jesus changed Daniel.”
Brenda’s eyes lowered.
“Do you really believe Jesus can change a family?”
Rachel thought before answering.
“I don’t know what God is going to do in your family.”
Brenda looked up.
“But I know Daniel is different. I watched Jesus change him.”
Brenda looked down at her cup again.
“Mike is different.”
Rachel nodded.
“Then keep watching.”
Rachel didn’t push further. She didn’t ask Brenda to say anything or make a decision before she was ready. She simply stayed beside her.
That evening, Rachel told Daniel about the conversation.
They were sitting at the kitchen table.
The notebook was between them.
“So Brenda asked if Jesus could change a family?”
Rachel nodded.
“What did you tell her?”
“That I watched Jesus change you.”
Daniel smiled.
“That’s good.”
“I know.”
“There it is.”
“What?”
“That humble spirit I’ve always admired.”
Rachel laughed.
Daniel opened the notebook.
He began turning backward through the pages.
There was more there than he remembered.
Verses.
Questions.
Lessons.
Corrections.
Truths that had once seemed almost too big to understand.
He stopped at one page.
CHILDREN AND HEIRS.
Another.
ACCEPTED IN THE BELOVED.
Then:
CHOSEN.
REDEEMED.
A NEW CREATION.
PUT ON THE NEW MAN.
SEATED WITH CHRIST.
CREATED FOR HIS PURPOSE.
AMBASSADORS FOR CHRIST.
Rachel watched him.
“You’ve written a lot.”
“I’ve had a lot to learn.”
“Had?”
Daniel looked up.
Rachel raised an eyebrow.
“Have.”
“Better.”
Daniel reached the final clean page.
He wrote:
NOTHING CAN SEPARATE US — ROMANS 8
Then beneath it:
My security is not in how tightly I can hold onto Christ.
He paused.
Then wrote another line.
My confidence is in the One who loved me and gave Himself for me.
Rachel read it.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then she smiled.
“Remember when you first came to church with me?”
Daniel groaned.
“The flags?”
“The flags.”
“I thought you people were strange.”
“You still do.”
“I’ve simply become one of you.”
Rachel laughed.
Daniel looked around the room.
At the home.
At the notebook.
At the Bible.
“I thought I was coming to church with a woman I cared about.”
Rachel reached across the table and took his hand.
Daniel looked toward the hallway.
Ethan walked past carrying something toward his room.
Lily followed him.
Sadie followed Lily.
Daniel smiled.
“I had no idea what God was going to do with my life.”
Rachel squeezed his hand.
“Neither did I.”
Ethan stopped.
“What are you guys doing?”
“Talking about Romans eight.”
Ethan came closer.
Lily immediately changed direction and joined him.
“What’s Romans eight?”
Daniel smiled.
“It’s a chapter in the Bible.”
“I know that.”
“Then why did you ask?”
Ethan rolled his eyes.
“What are you talking about in Romans eight?”
“That’s better.”
Rachel shook her head.
Daniel opened his Bible.
“We’re talking about how nothing can separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus.”
Lily climbed into a chair.
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
Daniel read part of the passage.
“Neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come . . .”
Ethan listened.
Daniel continued.
“Nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing . . .”
Lily suddenly looked beneath the table.
Sadie was lying near her feet.
“Sadie’s a created thing.”
Daniel stopped.
Rachel covered her mouth.
Ethan started laughing.
Daniel looked at Sadie.
Then at Lily.
“Yes.”
Lily smiled.
“So Sadie can’t separate us from God’s love either.”
Daniel opened his mouth.
“Technically . . .”
Rachel held up one hand.
“Careful.”
Daniel looked at his wife.
Then at Lily.
Then at Sadie.
“I’m not touching this one.”
Lily leaned down and hugged Sadie.
“Good.”
Daniel shook his head.
After thirty-two Journeys, Sadie had apparently won.
Sunday morning came again.
Daniel stood on the platform with his guitar.
Rachel stood nearby, ready to sing.
There had been a time when standing there made Daniel feel as if everyone could see everything he didn’t know.
Sometimes he still felt shaky.
But now he understood that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
It reminded him who the platform belonged to.
He looked toward the congregation.
Ethan and Lily were there.
Pastor Nash stood off to one side.
Then Daniel saw Mike.
Brenda was sitting beside him.
She wasn’t raising her hands.
She wasn’t singing yet.
She was simply watching.
Daniel smiled.
He knew that look.
Not very long ago, he had been the man sitting out there.
Watching.
Wondering.
Trying to understand.
Mike looked toward the platform.
Their eyes met.
Mike gave Daniel a small nod.
Daniel returned it.
Then he looked at Rachel.
She smiled.
Daniel placed his hand on the guitar.
And for just a moment, he thought about the road that had brought him there.
He had spent twenty-five years believing he understood Christianity.
He knew church.
He knew religion.
He knew about God.
But then he met Jesus.
And everything changed.
He discovered that salvation wasn’t about becoming more religious.
He needed to be born again.
And once he was in Christ, Daniel began discovering what God had already made true about him.
He was a child of God.
An heir.
Accepted in the Beloved.
Chosen.
Redeemed.
A new creation.
He was learning to put on the new man.
He was seated with Christ.
Created for His purpose.
Sent as an ambassador.
Now another truth had settled deeper into him.
None of those things rested on tomorrow being easy or Daniel getting everything right.
His confidence was in Christ.
Daniel looked again toward Mike and Brenda.
The journey was continuing.
Pastor Nash had invested in Daniel. Daniel had shared what he was learning with Mike. Rachel had begun making room for Brenda.
And maybe one day Mike and Brenda would find themselves sitting across from someone else who needed to hear what Jesus had done for them.
That was how light traveled.
One life pointing another life toward Jesus Christ.
Daniel looked at Rachel.
She nodded.
He began to play.
Scripture for the Journey
Romans 8:31–39
Paul does not promise believers a life without trouble.
He names trouble.
Tribulation.
Distress.
Persecution.
Famine.
Peril.
Even death.
Yet none of those things can separate those who belong to Christ from the love of God.
Our confidence is not that we will never stumble.
And grace is not permission to deliberately continue in sin.
When the Holy Spirit convicts us, we respond.
We confess.
We repent.
We make things right where we can.
And we continue walking with Christ.
Our security is not found in our own perfection.
It is found in Jesus Christ.
Paul concludes:
“For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
The Light to Carry
Daniel’s journey began with a man who thought he already knew God.
He had religion.
He had church.
He had years of believing.
But he needed Jesus.
When Daniel was born again, he began discovering who God said he was in Christ. That truth changed the way he lived, worshiped, worked, loved his family, served, and responded when he was wrong.
Eventually, it also helped him recognize another man sitting toward the back of a church who knew about Jesus but did not yet know Him.
Daniel’s journey did not end when he discovered who he was in Christ.
It began to reach someone else.
Now Mike’s journey has begun.
Brenda is watching.
Their son is watching.
And none of them knows everything that will happen next.
That’s all right.
The Christian life isn’t about knowing every chapter before we live it.
It is about knowing the One who walks with us through every chapter.
And every day we continue learning to live according to who God says we are . . .
In Christ