“The God of this people Israel chose our fathers, and exalted the people when they dwelt as strangers in the land of Egypt, and with an uplifted arm He brought them out of it.” Acts 13:17

Family Ties

My elderly mother brought me a file bulging with random papers and clippings, and handed it over with great pride.

“This is our family history. Would you like to look through it?” Family history is crucial to my mother. She has researched and prepared extensive records, including not only birth, marriage, and death data, but also trivia such as the history of the flag of the county in which her parents had lived in another state, and the name of her father’s mule which helped plow the fields. We had been through this information together many times in the past.

These papers include me in a history. The history ties me to a group. It grounds me in a place and time with people who farmed and planted, raised sheep, defended the country honorably, raised their children during the depression, saved up sugar rations to make a wedding cake, and taught school in a one-room schoolhouse on their own farm.

God has left such a record for us, too. He includes us in a history—the history of the earth, the history of His people. We have our birth family, some of us have adoptive families, but we also belong to the family of God, having been adopted by Him.

I am tied to the history of God’s people. My genealogy, my family tree, is written and preserved in the Bible, starting with Adam. I can read about the great and not-so-great members of my family there—the Cains and the Abels, the Sauls and the Davids, the Peters and the Judases. I can read about their struggles and triumphs, theirs sorrows, the depth of their emotions, and their loves. I can read their poetry and see their vivid imaginations come to life in their days, in my days.

Because I can hear our ocean, I can hear their ocean; because I can see the wind in my trees, I can see the wind in their trees. Because I have felt pain, I can feel their pain; because I have grieved when a loved one passes on, I can feel their grief. I know their frustrations and fears, their joyfulness and gratitude.

We belong to this family of God. As different as we are, we still belong. We were brought in under “one roof”—one banner—the banner of love. Belonging to this family identifies us, gives us purpose, and commands a particular code of conduct, just as any family does.

And we also have a family name: Beloved.

Our Father, thank You for adopting us into Your family. Help us to understand our particular place in it. And by Your Spirit, may we live as those who are beloved.