Revelation 3:5 All who are victorious will be clothed in white. I will never erase their names from the Book of Life, but I will announce before my Father and his angels that they are mine.
Breaking news: My seven-month-old grandson Caleb cut his top two teeth last week. He now has four! Not exactly a headline, you say? But I’ve excitedly told this to several people. Why? Because he is mine.
I watched Caleb on Thursday trying over and over again until by late afternoon he was able to push himself from his tummy into a sitting position. The next morning he performed this new skill with ease, and turned his focus toward mastering forward instead of backward movement when on his hands and knees . . .
Watching Caleb fascinates me. He’s doing normal baby things, but for me each new conquest is cause for celebration. Why? Because he is mine. Is he the cutest and smartest baby ever? Of course! Objectively, that question is irrelevant. Because he is mine.
I watched Caleb more than usual last week because his mom, my daughter Valerie, was studying for and taking her exam for certification as a critical care nurse. She now has more letters after her name: CCRN. She’s the best nurse in the pediatric ICU of Children’s Hospital of Pittsburgh. Is that objectively true? It doesn’t matter! Because she is mine.
Last month my son Dan graduated from the Metropolitan Police Academy in DC. He was the most charming and handsome new police officer participating in the graduation ceremonies. Objectively true? It doesn’t matter! I was proud to point out to the people sitting near me which one was my son. Because he is mine.
A woman I met at a church picnic Sunday said, “Oh, is Rachel your daughter? She has been so sweet and helpful to me.” I responded with thanks, but inside I was more than just grateful for the woman’s comment—I was proud to be linked to my daughter. Because she is mine.
This is how Jesus feels about you. And about me. He’s delighted to claim us. Because we are his, in a covenant of belonging and love.