My First name is Son

Over the last 10 years I have been called a number of things. If we were to roll back the clock a full 10 years you would have found me in North Salem Oregon standing in coveralls in the freezing cold, hand stacking pallets of concrete blocks one after another 8 hours a day. If you were to look closely at my dust drenched coveralls you would make out my first name embroidered on my chest "David" My name was there not because I was important, it was meant to keep others from stealing my work gear. Every night my coveralls hung in the work bathroom next to the coffee pot and porn magazines my coworkers kept, ready for my next 6am shift with my name on them.

David has always been my first name, 

but I have been called many things over the years 

I remember hearing the slumbery whispered voice of my precious new bride the morning she first called me "husband." 

I recall a  December night, in the midst of an emotion filled delivery room, when I was first called father as I held my baby son. 

And amidst it all, there you could find me 10 years ago in the cloudy dust of the factory, stacking blocks they called me a grinder, a stacker, a loader. I was a manual laborer. My title was equal to what I did. 

As I reflect on the last 10 years, I can see how titles have at times become too central to me. There have been times that the title 'husband' has made me protective and jealous.  

There have been times when being called 'father' has made me 'see red' while cheering on my son on the basketball court. The father in me seemed to crowd out the Christian in me momentarily as I yelled at the ref. 

As many of you know, we have completed our pastoral ministry at our current Church. I have left behind my office, my book shelves, my quiet space and my ministry influence, not to mention countless friends. I have set aside my 'pastor' title. 

To be honest it was both the saddest thing I have ever had to do and the most relieving; pastoral ministry is a heavy burden to carry, an honor that is as much a blessing as a challenge. I am passionate about pastoral ministry, caring for and encouraging the people God blesses us with. But, being called pastor often became so much more than a title. To be honest being a pastor took all of me. I carried the burdens of God's people with me, I would be overjoyed by ministry successes but on a deeper level I found myself discouraged by the challenges.  At times over the 7 years of pastoral ministry I believe I lost myself in the role.   

My title often crept in and became my identity.

For all practical purposes my title had become my first name, the primary describer of my life, my prized honor, my favorite role, my calling, my joy.

My title had become my first name.

If you were to stop at this moment and consider what your 'first name' is, what would you say? What is it about you that is so central that identifies you as significant?

Throughout this transition I have learned a few lessons the first being this,

my first name (primary identity) in God’s eyes is not David, it is not Pastor or husband or Father.

My first name, in God’s eyes is not even servant or slave... it is Son.

Check out  1 John 3:1

"Behold what manner of love the Father has for us, that we should be called children of God."   

So yours and my primary identity is grounded not in something we do, but in the gift of adoption. Before any other title, or descriptive term, God sees us as…    Sons & Daughters

Today I am rejoicing in the truth that I am first and foremost a son of God.

Always, Son

                                    Though all else changes…

                                                                                                Always Son

What an amazing irrevocable gift, always embraced, never cast aside. Son. 
This identity can be yours as well, if you don't know Him, His name is Jesus the true Son who gave His life that we might be sons & daughters in Him.