Abba Was Waiting for Me

Sometimes God doesn’t speak just once.

Sometimes He whispers the same truth through different places until our hearts are finally ready to hear it.

This week has been one of those weeks.

Last Sunday, I had the privilege of teaching our Sunday school class through Galatians 3 about justification by faith. We talked about how we are made right with God, not because of what we do, but because of what Christ has already done. It was a beautiful reminder that salvation is received, not earned.

A few days later, I attended an InterVarsity prayer retreat during a season of Ministry Partnership Development (MPD). If you’ve ever been in fundraising ministry, you know how easy it is to become consumed with appointments, follow ups, goals, percentages, and asking people to join your mission. It is meaningful work, but it can also become noisy.

The retreat invited us to be still and reflect.

One question stopped me in my tracks.

“What is the Lord inviting you into?”

As I sat with my journal, I wrote down words like goals, benchmarks, attitudes, beliefs, and actions. All of those matter. Then another word quietly settled into my heart.

Abba.

I didn’t fully understand why.

Then Sunday morning arrived.

Our lesson continued into Galatians 4.

“Because you are His sons, God sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, crying, ‘Abba, Father.'” Galatians 4:6

There it was again.

Abba.

I realized God had been connecting the dots all week.

Justification by faith was never meant to end with forgiveness.

It leads to adoption.

Adoption leads to relationship.

Relationship leads to intimacy with our Father.

The word Abba is an Aramaic expression of deep affection and closeness. It reminds us that God is not simply our Creator or our King. Through Christ, He has invited us into His family. We are sons and daughters who can approach Him with confidence, trust, and love.

As I reflected on my own ministry journey, I recognized how easy it is to measure my life by appointments scheduled, support raised, emails sent, and goals accomplished.

But God gently reminded me that before I am a missionary, minister, speaker, or fundraiser…

I am His daughter.

That truth changes everything.

My identity is no longer rooted in what I accomplish for God.

It is rooted in belonging to God.

The ministry still matters.

The goals still matter.

The follow ups still matter.

But they are no longer the foundation of my peace.

Abba is.

Psalm 118 became especially meaningful during the retreat.

“Out of my distress I called on the Lord; the Lord answered me and set me in a spacious place.” Psalm 118:5

I realized the spacious place God is creating may not simply be around me.

He is creating a spacious place within me.

A heart no longer crowded by striving.

A heart learning to trust.

A heart that remembers His goodness before focusing on what is still unfinished.

Perhaps that’s the invitation for all of us today.

Not to work harder to earn God’s approval.

Not to prove ourselves through ministry, careers, or accomplishments.

But to receive the invitation Jesus purchased for us.

To come close.

To rest.

To trust.

To cry out with confidence,

“Abba, Father.”

Reflection

What would change in your life if you truly believed your primary identity was not what you do, but whose you are?

Prayer

Abba, thank You that through Jesus I have been adopted into Your family. Teach me to live as Your beloved child instead of striving to earn what You have already freely given. Help me remember that my identity is found in You, and may everything I do flow from intimacy with You instead of performance. Amen.