I Am a Child of the King.

We spent this weekend staying with family. Jesse is a good sleeper, but waking up in a room he doesn't know can confuse him, and at 2:45 in the morning I heard him crying.

So I went.

There was nothing to figure out and nothing to fix. He didn't need an explanation for why the wardrobe was in the wrong place. He needed someone to come, and he knew someone would.

There's a very short list of people in this world who can wake me at 2:45 in the morning and have me come to them, no questions, no resentment.

My boys are at the top of it. They didn't apply for the spot, and they can't lose it. They were born onto that list.

And the list is only the start of it.

They live in my home and have never once paid rent. When they want more dinner, they can have mine. I'll sit with them while they're falling asleep. When one of them is sick in the night, I'm the one who cleans him up, and it has never crossed my mind to be owed anything for it.

None of this was ever negotiated. They didn't earn it. Everything they have flows from a single fact: they're my sons.

The care is so complete it's invisible to them. The surest mark of being someone's child is all the things it never occurs to you to worry about.

And I'm an ordinary parent.

I get tired, I run out of patience, I don't always get it right.

Jesus made exactly this comparison in Matthew 7:11: "If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask Him!"

If a worn-out parent in an unfamiliar house will come at 2:45, how much more will your Father in heaven come for you.

"See how great a love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God!" (1 John 3:1).

Called. Not hired, not admitted on a trial basis. Named as His child, with everything that comes with the name.

Maybe you've been treating God's care like something you have to qualify for, checking your week before you pray, wondering if you can bring the same thing to Him one more time.

You don't audit a child before you comfort them.

You're on the list.

You were born onto it the day He called you His.

Call, and He comes.