Wednesday, June 24, 2026 | Into the Wilderness, Week 4

“So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God’s Spirit when he adopted you as his own children. Now we call him, ‘Abba, Father.’”

Romans 8:15, NLT

Devotional Thought

Paul puts his finger on two completely different ways to relate to God, and most of us are living in the wrong one without realizing it. There’s the spirit of a slave, and there’s the Spirit of a child. And the difference between them is the difference between fear and belonging.

A slave relates to the master through performance and fear. Did I do enough? Am I in trouble? Will I be kept or thrown out? A slave’s whole standing depends on output — and underneath it all is fear, because the relationship is conditional. That’s exactly the “I am what I produce” false self the wilderness has been exposing all series, transferred onto God himself. A lot of sincere Christians are functionally slaves: anxious, performing, never sure they’ve done enough to be accepted.

Paul says that is not the Spirit you received. You did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear. You received the Spirit of adoption — and adopted children don’t audition for their place in the family. They’re chosen, brought in, given the name. Their standing doesn’t rise and fall with their performance, because it was never based on performance. It was based on the father’s decision to make them his.

And here’s the proof Paul points to: you call him Abba. That’s the Aramaic word a child uses for their dad — intimate, trusting, the word a toddler says reaching up to be held. The Spirit himself put that word in your mouth. You don’t say “Abba” to a master you’re scared of. You say it to a father you trust. The very fact that you can cry out to God like that is evidence the adoption already happened.

So if you’ve been relating to God like a nervous employee — performing, anxious, never sure you’ve done enough — Paul says the wilderness has a word for you. You’re not a slave. You’re a son, a daughter. Adopted, chosen, named. And just to seal it, Paul adds that if we’re children, then we’re heirs — we inherit everything alongside Christ himself. Stop auditioning for a place that’s already yours.

Going Deeper

Scripture Reading

Romans 8:14–17, NLT

Historical Context

Romans 8 is the high point of Paul’s letter to the church in Rome — a mix of Jewish and Gentile believers. In the Roman world, adoption was a serious legal act, often of an adult, that permanently transferred a person into a new family with full rights of inheritance, erasing old debts and obligations. Paul’s original readers would have heard “adoption” with that legal weight: a complete, irreversible change of status and family.

Literary Context

This sits in the chapter that begins “there is now no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus” (8:1) and builds toward “nothing can ever separate us from God’s love” (8:38–39). The adoption passage is the relational heart of that argument. It contrasts two spirits — slavery/fear versus adoption/sonship — and grounds Christian assurance not in performance but in the Spirit’s inner witness that “we are God’s children” (v. 16).

Theological Context

Adoption is Paul’s image for the believer’s new identity, and it directly dismantles the “I am what I produce” false self as applied to God. A slave’s standing is earned and precarious; a child’s is given and secure. The cry “Abba, Father” — the same word Jesus used in Gethsemane — is evidence of the Spirit’s work, not a reward for spiritual achievement. Heirship (v. 17) follows from sonship, not from merit. This is identity as pure gift: relational, secure, and unearnable. The wilderness exposes the slave-spirit so the adopted-child reality can be received.

Key Insights

1. There are two ways to relate to God — as a fearful slave (performing, anxious) or as an adopted child (secure, belonging). Many sincere believers live as slaves.
2. Adoption isn’t earned. Children don’t audition for their place; they’re chosen and brought in. Standing doesn’t rise and fall with output.
3. “Abba” is a child’s intimate word for dad. The fact that the Spirit lets you cry it is proof the adoption already happened.
4. If children, then heirs. You inherit everything with Christ — not as wages, but as family.

Looking In the Mirror

1. Be honest: do you relate to God more like a nervous employee or a secure child? What’s the evidence in how you pray, rest, and handle failure?
2. Where does the “I am what I produce” lie show up in your relationship with God specifically — the sense that you have to do enough to be accepted?
3. The Spirit lets you cry “Abba.” When did you last approach God with that kind of trust, instead of anxiety about whether you’d done enough?

Guided Prayer

Father — and I’m going to call you that on purpose today — I’ve been relating to you like a slave. Anxious, performing, never sure I’ve done enough to be accepted by you. Paul says that’s not the Spirit I was given. I wasn’t adopted to audition; I was adopted because you chose me and made me yours. So let me feel that today. Not the fear of a worker wondering if he’s in trouble, but the security of a child who knows whose he is. You put the word “Abba” in my mouth — let me mean it. I’m not a slave here. I’m your kid. Help me live like it. Amen.