One friend comes and takes my doll, cheerfully sitting to play
My heart rate soars, my stomach's a knot
Hey! That belongs to me.
Another comes and takes my role, making the audience laugh
The tears roll down, my stomach's a knot
Hey! That belongs to me.
Again one comes and takes the guys, walking around so thin
The anger builds, my stomach's a knot
Hey! That belongs to me.
Another friend comes and takes the stage
Teaching the Word of God
Hopelessness invades, my stomach's a knot
Hey! That belongs to me.
The Father comes and takes my heart
Gently pouring in His love
Jealousy leaves, inheritance comes
Yes! That belongs to me.
Do you ever want to call one of your childhood friends simply to apologize for what a crazy nut you were back in the day? Perhaps you're haunted by the memory of that horrific sleepover—the one where you joined in on pouring warm water over your best friend's hand while she slept just to see if she would wet herself. Or maybe you're embarrassed about that “Truth or Dare” game gone terribly wrong.
Well, I know the feeling. In fact, I have apologized to my childhood friends many times. You see, I didn't realize it then, but I was a very difficult friend to have. Of course, I saw myself as an incredibly loyal friend, one who would never leave your side. But, that was the problem: I would never leave your side! I was extremely possessive of my friends—or I should say “friend,” because I only had one at a time. After all, how can a girl be completely devoted to more than that?
Now, even though I was perfectly content to have my one best friend, sometimes she would decide to play with someone besides me. It was not pretty when that occurred.
YOUNG FAT GIRL: Hey, Christina! Do you want to spend the night tonight?
FRIEND: Well, I do, but I'm spending the night with Lee Anne tonight. Maybe tomorrow.
SABBY: What did she just say to you?
YOUNG FAT GIRL: She's spending the night with Lee Anne. (Increased heart rate.)
SABBY: How can she do that? How can she turn her back on you like that?
YOUNG FAT GIRL: I don't know. (Tears welling up in eyes.)
SABBY: You would NEVER spend the night with anyone but her. I can't believe she's doing this to you. I don't think you should EVER talk to her again. That will show her.
YOUNG FAT GIRL: You're right! I would never do that to her. Never! How can she call herself my friend?
Scenes like this happened many times in my early childhood, and, sadly enough, they carried on through the years. I can remember feeling betrayed when my one high school friend dared to go off without me. And I can remember feeling the same way about my one friend in college. (Can we say weirdo?)
What's really sad is that I knew how unhealthy my behavior was. I understood that it was normal for people to have several good friends at a time, but I couldn't stop my possessive and jealous behavior. And it didn't stop when I became a Christian, either, which only made the inner turmoil greater. It was very clear to me that God did not approve of jealousy. I knew He did not want me to be irrationally angry about what my friends had going on in their lives, but no matter how hard I tried to act better, I just couldn't. The pain and shame would turn into a big self-pity cycle, which would make me an even more difficult friend to deal with.
Thankfully, I am no longer possessive with my friends, and in fact, I have several healthy friendships (at the same time!). I have also been forgiven by all of my victims…um, I mean, friends. And I have not only gotten over the embarrassment but, as a result of uncovering more of that good stuff God has already given me, I have forgiven myself for being such a jerk. Another divine light switch was flipped on for me, helping me to understand my actions. I see now that they were merely symptoms of a much bigger problem—a problem I believe we all have to deal with: living with an orphan heart.
I read an interesting story once about a little orphan boy who was adopted at around seven years old. The couple who adopted him had prayed for years that God would show them the perfect boy, and they were thrilled when the day finally came that they could call that boy their son.
The couple gave the boy everything. They gave him a wonderful room to call his own. They gave him new clothes and toys. They gave him all the love they had to give. They absolutely adored him. But even though he had been given all of these things—even though he was now truly part of a family—he couldn't completely accept it.
The boy couldn't keep himself from folding a few extra dinner rolls into his napkin to hide in his bedroom. He couldn't stop burying his favorite toys in a secret place deep within his closet. He couldn't stop wondering when everything would be taken away from him. He couldn't help it because he couldn't let go of the orphan way.
Now, most of us would think that the orphan way is only experienced by children who have lost their parents. So, if I were to say that I believe we are all—in one way or another—orphans, your first reaction might be to disagree if you were raised by your parents. But, the word orphan can have a much broader meaning. It can refer to a person or thing that is without protective covering. And in the Greek, orphan can mean one who is comfortless.
Even with the broader definition in mind, you might still think you don't deal with orphan issues in your life. But let me point out one interesting thing. According to traditional Christian theology, we are all born “without protective affiliation.” In other words, we are born alienated from God (our Protector) thanks to our ancestors, Adam and Eve. Back in Genesis, when the first man and woman disobeyed God by eating that dumb apple, they were sent out of the garden of Eden. They experienced a spiritual death (just as they'd been warned)—a separation from the perfect love and intimacy they had always known in the garden. They were homeless. No more security. No safe place. No protective affiliation. They were on their own. They were orphans.
And, as Jack Frost says in his book Spiritual Slavery to Spiritual Sonship, “As a result of their [Adam and Eve s] fall, their orphan heart passed down to every succeeding generation, thus becoming the common heritage of all humanity.”8 We retain that heritage—an orphan heart—until we finally learn how to exchange it for a new one. But, that's much easier said than done. For just like the little orphan boy in the example above, even after being brought into a family—the family of God—it is hard for us to abandon our old orphan ways.
I'd like to take a moment here to tell you about some of my former orphan ways—ways that continued well into my life as a Christian. I'll admit that some of them are embarrassing now that my heart has been changed. But, if we're all gonna get honest here, someone's gotta go first. It might as well be me. I'll start with the biggest one: my bottomless need for approval.
Before I was finally able to receive lasting love and approval from my heavenly Father, I was desperate to get it from people. Nearly everything I did was motivated by that need. Of course I wasn't consciously aware of it at the time, but when I offered to help a friend with her children, I didn't really want to help her. I needed her to think that I was a great friend. When I signed up to help with this or that at church, I didn't do it because I really wanted to do that task, it was because I needed someone to think I was such an amazing servant. I needed to be counted as one of the spiritually mature—those who sacrifice their time and resources for others. I needed to be seen as “someone” because deep inside I didn't really believe I was.
That need for approval went hand-in-hand with another of my orphan ways: competition and jealousy toward others. Because I needed approval so badly, when others around me got it, I was jealous. I couldn't rejoice when others were promoted because inside I was thinking, “Hey, I've been here longer than she has! What's the deal?” When someone was honored at church for starting some amazing new ministry, I'd be trapped in bitterness because it should have been me.
And that disappointment led to another orphan way: hopelessness. When others around me were being blessed or promoted in their jobs or ministries, I couldn't help but feel like nothing good was ever going to happen to me. It seemed like God wanted to give good things to everyone around me, but for me, life was going to be about striving for what little I could get.
So, what about you? Do you think you might have some orphan ways keeping you from living the way God really wants? In appendix A of this book, there is a list of orphan heart tendencies, but one simple way to find out is to answer this question honestly: can you really rejoice when others rejoice? Now I mean really. Even more specifically, do you think nothing but happy thoughts when someone gets exactly what you've wanted for years, but you don't? Could you say you're not a bit jealous when they get that job you've been dreaming of? That guy you've imagined on your arm? That ministry you've always thought was God's call on your life? The thing you've been praying about for years?
I'll tell you this: about the only thing that would keep you from being truly happy for others is fearing that nothing good will ever come to you. And that, my friend, is orphan thinking. That is the belief that you have no inheritance. No exciting destiny. And this way of thinking makes it impossible for us to be effective Christians. You know why? Because the Bible says that people will know we are Christians by our love for one another (John 13:35). And if we can't rejoice for each other, we don't have love.
And not only that, but this way of thinking means we can't really love God because we'll always think He's holding out on us. And we won't see Him as a loving Father longing to give us good things. He will be seen only as a master—someone to be served and rarely appeased.
Now, the opposite of living the orphan way is living the daughter way—living like we belong to a family—like we have a Father—like we're safe. This way is easier to describe than it is to live, simply because it requires letting go of bad habits. Not only bad habits, but we need to let go of lies we've believed about our own identity and about Father God's. Living the daughter way requires us to relinquish our orphan ways, and crazy as it may seem, many of those ways die hard. Without us realizing it, they became our identity—such a huge part of our being—and letting go can be painful.
But it's so worth it, for there is nothing—I mean nothing—like the freedom and peace that a daughter feels.
So, what does the daughter way look like? Here's a glimpse:
Take it from this former orphan girl: I don't ever want to go back.
The good news is Jesus knows our predicament, and He addresses it in the Bible. In John 14:18, He says, “I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you.” In this verse “orphans” means more specifically “comfortless and fatherless.” And Jesus doesn't leave us that way. Remember that He came to be “the Way” back to the Father. When we follow Him into the embrace of our heavenly Father, the fact is we are not fatherless. And He also comes to us, as He says He will, through the power of the “Helper” or “Comforter” (the Holy Spirit, John 14:16). The truth is we are not comfortless.
We also know we are not orphans because the Bible tells us we've been adopted:
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.’ The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God. (Romans 8:15–16)
We are daughters of the King of Kings, and not only that, but we have been given an inheritance. In fact, we are joint heirs with Jesus (Rom. 8:17). We have the same Father He has, and remember Jesus was all He was because of the Father He had. Just think about all we could be if we put an end to our orphan thinking and take our rightful place—a place that Jesus prepared for us. It's ours for the taking.
As I said earlier, our orphan ways sometimes die hard. Some of those bad boys have been beating us up for years, and they don't want to leave without a fight. But, if we want to make the truth of our biblical position become our actual experience, we must show up for the battle.
I'd like to tell you the “three easy ways to slay the orphan in you,” but they don't exist. This battle we face is really an individual journey—one that must be made with the Mighty Counselor.
But there are things we can do. We can admit the orphan ways we see in our lives instead of ignoring them. We can turn our focus toward receiving the Father's love, which includes turning our focus away from what our earthly parents might have done wrong and letting them off the hook. And we can make a firm choice (one we declare to all who will hear) to live as daughters and not orphans—accepting the full privilege, blessing, and inheritance that come from that position.
We can also ask God to forgive us for the sinful ways we've acted because of our orphan heart. That sin acts as a barrier keeping us from God, and we want to knock it down. The humility it takes to get that honest with ourselves and with God isn't for sissies.
Now, we can't do the big stuff—the supernatural stuff that words fail to accurately explain. We can't bring sight to our blind eyes. We can't transform our thought processes and change deeply ingrained bad habits. We can't bring life into dead places in our hearts. But, the Holy Spirit can…when we ask Him to, and then allow Him to.
King David understood this way back in the Old Testament. Look at his prayer in Psalm 51:10–12:
Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me away from Your presence, and do not take Your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of Your salvation, and uphold me by Your generous Spirit.
The Holy Spirit does such wonderful work. The Bible calls Him the Helper (John 14:16–17); our life (Rom. 8:2, 10–11); the Spirit of truth (John 14:17); the Spirit of adoption (Rom. 8:15–16); and the Spirit of holiness (Rom. 1:3–4). He is all those things for us.
When the pain of our orphan thinking becomes great enough that we are willing to do whatever it takes, the Holy Spirit does His work. When we give Him full permission (He won't force Himself on us) to do what He does—revealing truth, convicting of sin, comforting pain—things actually start to change. Bit by bit that orphan heart we've lived with for years is replaced by a new one: the heart of a daughter.
Oh Heavenly Father,
Thank You for calling me Your daughter—for loving me warts and all. Thank You for being a safe place for me and for giving me an eternal home.
I need to ask You to forgive me for all the years I've lived as an orphan even though You told me time and time again I was Your child. Please forgive me for having such a jealous and bitter heart, despising others for the blessings You were giving them. I was afraid nothing good was ever going to come to me. I see now that this is a lie, and I'm so sorry for believing it.
Please forgive me for all the years I worked to get the approval of people when all along You were longing to pour upon me more approval than I could have comprehended. I now accept my place at Your table as Your daughter, and I know Your plans for me are good. I know Your inheritance for me is good. I choose to believe the truth of Your Word about my life and the importance of it. I take my rightful position as a joint heir with Christ!
I love You,
Your daughter—the daughter of the King
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Most of us have never considered ourselves orphans. I know I never did—that is, until I saw all the orphan heart tendencies that were alive and well in my life. When I first saw all of this going on in me, I felt a bit disappointed in myself. But calling out the orphan heart in us isn't something to feel guilty about. It's really something to be excited about because there's a 100 percent effective remedy: taking our rightful place as children of God.
It's so important to remember that this “heart transplant” isn't accomplished by our own effort. We don't have to add anything to our religious “to do” list. We simply need to allow the Holy Spirit to reveal the truth about our identity as a daughter—to show us all that has been given to us and all that we have a right to. It really is like finding out a distant relative has left a huge inheritance for you in a safety deposit box. You've got the choice to receive the inheritance or not. Why would you want to deny it?