Adopted boy gives up his bundle

What areas of thinking need to give way to the love of God for my heart and mind to be transformed? This was the question posed in a devotional blurb. I knew I needed to answer it. But I said to Holy Spirit, this is like asking a blind man to tell you if his cloths are matching colors. It’s hard to see my own faults. You’re going to have to show me these things. He did not respond. I initially thought that I’d ponder this question with hands at the keyboard and sort of take notes as he pointed things out. But that wasn’t yielding any results.

So I put on some ambient music, and as I quieted myself in his presence a scene began to play out in my imagination. I saw myself as a young boy, being led into a huge mansion. I had been an orphan, and the King who owned this place had just adopted me.

With me was a kind man, whom I knew to be Holy Spirit. As I stepped into the hall of this great place, I was overwhelmed by the staggering wealth behind this huge house. I became aware of my tattered cloths and bare feet. In my hands I clutched a bundle wrapped in rags to my chest.

“You won’t need that here,” the kind man said to me, offering his hand to take my rag-bundle. But I was unwilling to give it up, and I clutched it more tightly to my chest.

After a pause he said, “Let’s go see your room.” And off he went across the great hall. I followed quickly behind him, and then grabbed his hand. Before long we were entering a large room with ceilings that must have been 16 foot high. I looked around in wonder at the space and furnishings. It wasn’t long before I wandered over to the corner window. My bedroom was on the corner of this mansion, and the corner window opened into a round extension—like a castle turret—with windows all around, and a bench seat all around as well. I had a 270 degree view of the grounds—lush green hills and trails, a lake, and stream. It was exceedingly beautiful.

The kind man suggested I change clothes. “You are the King’s son now. You won’t need your old clothes.” But I didn’t want to take off what I had on. The rags I wore were all I knew. He walked over to the chest of drawers, opening them to reveal many beautiful items of clothing. He then pulled back the sliding closet that seemed huge, revealing other clothes hanging on the racks. And beneath the row of clothes were shoes of every type, for every activity. What would my bare feet think of such variety?

The scene shifted and I found myself spreading out my rag bundle of items on the bed. There were things in there, and I wondered what they meant. I knew these were things I had to give up, if I were to embrace my new identity as the King’s son.

I realized God was answering my prayer, playing out a scene in my imagination. I’m an adult of many years, and yet I was a young boy in this scene. I was curious to see what was in the bundle, for the adult in me didn’t know. So I let the scene play out and watched the boy spread his things upon the bed, then reach for an item.

I saw my smart phone and picked it up. “What does this mean?” I asked the kind man. I have to give up my phone? But I knew the answer. This represented the things of this world, things that stimulate me, connect me, affirm me, engage my time and energies. My life was and is filled with such things, and I often measure my success by their abundance or lack. I gain affirmation by getting more things or better things. I held the phone in my hands. I liked my phone, but things do not define me. I gave it to the kind man and he took it.

Next I saw a ring. My wedding ring?! What?! But I knew—my marriage does not define me. I am a son of the King, whether married or not, whether I have family on earth or live alone. I am loved by the King whether I am loved by everyone or no-one on the earth. I am not defined by the affections received from others. I gave him my ring and he took it.

There was a dirty rag of a shirt or cloak. This was my past. Things good and things bad, the joys and sorrows, the mistakes, the successes—these all worked to shape my self-image. By them I learned the world’s path to significance—that I had to do something, in order to have something, in order to be something. But the King’s ways are different. My past does not define me. I have regal clothes now. Drawers and closets full of them. But even these do not define me. I am the son of the King. I gave the rag shirt to him and he took it.

I saw a pair of sandals on the bed. They were bare and broken. They never seemed to stay on my feet, I recall thinking. They represent my abilities, my strengths. But they are insufficient to carry me forward. They are untrustworthy, fragile even. They do not define me now. I now have a closet full of shoes for every activity and occasion. I gave him my sandals and he took them.

Then I noticed my old pair of glasses. By these I saw things more clearly. They represented my perceptions, how I make sense of the world. Without these I cannot see, I thought to myself. But he asked for them. I gave them to him and asked, “How will I see now?” “You will see what I see now,” he said simply. Those old glasses don’t define me now. I have new eyes.

And there was a ball the size of my fist. Strange I thought. But I knew it represented fun, that constant but unsatisfied pursuit of self-gratification. I am not defined by how much fun I can have. “I will replace your fun with joy,” he said to me. I felt a paradigm-shifting significance in his statement and knew that I would come to understand the weight of it. I gave him the ball and he took it.

There were some other things in there, but I just wrapped the cloth back up into a bundle. “There’s not much in here now,” I said aloud. He wanted me to give him the whole thing, including the cloth that held things. He replied, “You don’t need to hold onto things anymore. You have everything now. You are the King’s son.” I gave him the cloth, and noticed how empty my hands felt. They had grown accustomed to always holding onto something, but now there was nothing to clutch.

I am not defined by what I can hold onto, not any more. I am the King’s son.

I am the son of my Father, who owns all things in heaven and earth. His kingdom is my kingdom. It is our kingdom.