There is something to belonging. There is something delightful about looking around and seeing people that accept you. Why do you think teenagers and adults alike have done all manner of things to get it? Belonging I mean? Girls will puke their lives away to fit in—boys too apparently. Come on, you know what I mean. Go ahead and try it. “Aw but Mom! Everyone else is doing it!”
Here, let me oversimplify this for a moment.
I was clearing the kitchen table last night and noticed that one of my children had written their name on the back of their chair. That’s the place they sit every night so they probably feel like it is their chair. It’s not though, because the child doesn’t own it, the parent does. We bought and paid for the table and chairs: albeit for the family to use to sit in at mealtime. They still belong to us.
Of course I’m talking, really, about the Christian. The one who belongs to Christ has been bought with a price. It doesn’t matter what the world scrawls on them. It doesn’t matter what label has been assigned or how they are used. God knows those who belong to Him. And those who belong to Him know him back—in a limited sort of a way—almost, in fact, in the same way that my chair knows me. Which gives us an idea of how much more complex than we are is this great God we worship.
But it’s the belonging that matters. It’s the ownership. We have been bought with a price. We sheep know our shepherd. The goats? They know him too…and tremble. Why else would they spend so much time trying to disprove His existence?
18 For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth..