Learning to Live Loved

About two months ago, we welcomed two cats into our home—a female kitten we named Gracie and a male cat we named Sunshine. They had both been strays cared for by a friend, and when she told us she was looking to get them adopted, my husband and I immediately felt the nudge.

We brought them into our two-story home with a full basement. They have the freedom to explore the entire house, along with a room of their own for their food, water, and litter. They are cared for, protected, and deeply loved.

Sunshine has gradually warmed up to us. He still hesitates at times, but when he wants attention, he meows and walks right up to us. He walks throughout the house and is becoming more comfortable making himself at home.

Gracie is different. She is still very skittish. When we move toward her, she usually runs and hides. She has barely ventured upstairs or down to the basement. Yet, if I am quick enough to pick her up, something interesting happens: she stays in my arms. She does not struggle to get away or try to jump down. Sometimes she even purrs. When I feed her, she will although seldom allow me to gently pet her.

I often tell them, “You are loved. You are safe here. You have the freedom to run around.”

One day, I realized how much Gracie’s behavior can resemble our relationship with God.

Through Christ, we have been welcomed into God’s family. We are no longer outsiders trying to earn a place in His house. Scripture says, “Now, therefore, you are no longer strangers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God” (Ephesians 2:19, NKJV).

We belong to Him. We are loved, protected, and given access to His presence. Romans 8:15 reminds us that we did not receive a spirit that makes us slaves to fear; instead, we received the Spirit of adoption, by whom we cry, “Abba, Father.” And because we are His children, we are also heirs of God through Christ (Romans 8:16–17).

Yet even with all we have been given, we sometimes live like frightened strays rather than beloved children.

We hesitate to approach God. We hide when we feel ashamed. We shy away from His touch because past wounds, disappointment, or fear have taught us to protect ourselves. God has opened His whole house to us, yet we remain huddled in one small, familiar corner.

But our Father continues to invite us closer: “Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace” (Hebrews 4:16, NKJV). We do not have to sneak into His presence or wonder whether we are welcome. Through Jesus, the door is already open.

Gracie’s position in our family is secure, even though her confidence is still growing. She does not have to earn her food, freedom, or place in our home. Those things were given to her when we received her. Now she is learning to trust what is already true.

The same is true for us. Spiritual growth is often the process of learning to live from what God has already given us. We are not building a firm foundation so God will love us; we build because He already does. Each time we come to Him instead of hiding, believe His Word instead of our fear, and rest in His presence instead of running, another brick of trust is laid.

God patiently tells us: You are loved. You are safe with Me. You belong in My house.

May we stop living at the edges of the Kingdom and begin walking confidently in the freedom, authority, and inheritance Christ has given us. A life built to last is built by trusting the heart of the One who brought us home.

Reflection question: In what area of your life is God inviting you to stop hiding and begin living like His beloved child?