You’re not just surviving life’s challenges—you’re confronting them as a daughter of the Most High God. This transformative truth is one every believer needs to embrace in their faith journey.

Written By Catherine Clark // EEW Magazine Online

For years, fear controlled my life. I checked my bank account balance obsessively, terrified that one shortfall could send everything crumbling. I lay awake at night, rehearsing presentations in my head, and constantly worried about my kids—whether they were at school, at home, or anywhere in between.

Fear was my constant companion. That is, until I grasped the true meaning of what it means to be adopted by God.

“For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’” (Romans 8:15).

It was a Tuesday afternoon when my illusion of control crumbled, and everything I thought I knew about trusting God was turned on its head. Funny how clarity sometimes sneaks in during your lowest moments, isn’t it? There I was, drowning in anxiety, white-knuckling through life as though God were a stern professor grading my every move.

Then I began studying Romans 8:15 and what it means to call God “Abba.” I had heard people say it means “Daddy,” but there’s so much more to it.

In Jesus’ time, “Abba” was a term that combined deep intimacy with profound respect. It’s like the way a grown child might speak to a father they admire—close, yet reverent.

Here’s the part that still blows my mind: being adopted into God’s family means we are invited into this intimate relationship with the Creator of the universe. The One who spoke galaxies into being invites us to call Him “Abba.” It’s like having an all-access pass to both the throne room and the living room—and feeling equally at home in both.

Paul’s words about crying “Abba! Father!” aren’t just beautiful theology. They’re an invitation to a new way of living.

Breaking Free from the Chains of Fear

As women, we often carry generational burdens, cultural expectations, and personal anxieties that weigh us down. We’re expected to be strong, to have it all together, to be everyone’s rock. But what if strength looks different than we thought?

When my daughter was little, she went through a phase of night terrors. One night, as I held her trembling body close, I whispered, “Baby girl, Mama’s got you.” In that moment, I felt God whisper the same words to my spirit: “I’ve got you.” That’s what adoption means—we’re not orphans trying to navigate life alone. We’re daughters of the King.

The Spirit of adoption transforms everything. When the bill comes due and the bank account is low, we are daughters, not slaves to anxiety. When the doctor says, “We need to run more tests,” we are daughters, not slaves to fear. When our children make heartbreaking choices, we are daughters, not slaves to despair.

This isn’t about denial or toxic positivity. Paul says in Romans 8:16 that the Spirit testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. Notice he doesn’t say the Spirit removes all our problems. Instead, He speaks truth over our circumstances. When fear whispers, “You’re alone,” the Spirit testifies, “You’re Mine.” When anxiety hisses, “You can’t handle this,” the Spirit testifies, “We’ll handle this together.”

Living as Heirs, Not Orphans

But here’s where it gets even better. Romans 8:17 says we’re not just children—we’re heirs. Joint heirs with Christ. Think about that for a moment. The same inheritance of peace, power, and purpose that belongs to Jesus belongs to us. Not because we’ve earned it, but because we’ve been adopted into the family.

Living from this place of adoption means we can bring our raw, unfiltered emotions to God, because that’s what daughters do with their Abba. We can rest in His presence without feeling the need to perform, because acceptance isn’t earned—it was sealed at adoption. We can face uncertainty with peace, because our identity isn’t tied to outcomes—it’s secured in relationship.

For too many of us, Christianity feels like another set of expectations to meet. But Romans 8 offers a radically different picture. Through the Spirit of adoption, God isn’t calling us to be perfect daughters. He’s inviting us to be present daughters. Present in our struggles. Present in our questions. Present in our growth.

Trading Fear for Freedom

The journey from fear to freedom isn’t always a straight line. Some days we’ll still double-check the bank account and need to fight back fear. We’ll feel the weight of responsibilities and relationships. But we do it all as daughters, not slaves. We do it with the Spirit’s testimony rings in our hearts: “You belong. You are loved. You are Mine.”

The next time fear comes knocking—whether it’s about your health, your children, your career, or your future—pause and remember who you are. Let the Spirit remind you of your adoption papers, signed in the blood of Jesus and sealed by His resurrection power.

You’re not just surviving life’s challenges—you’re conquering them as a daughter of the Most High God. And that changes everything.