I grew up calling God things like Lord, and God, and Almighty. True words, good words. But somewhere along the way I picked up the idea that getting closer to him meant speaking more formally, not less, the way you’d address someone too important to call by anything but their full title.

Then I kept running into Romans 8:15, where Paul says we didn’t receive a spirit of slavery that makes us afraid, but a spirit of adoption, one that lets us cry out, “Abba, Father.” Abba isn’t a formal address. It’s closer to how a small child says Dad, before he’s learned to measure his words.

That stopped me. I’ve spent a lot of years being careful and respectful with God, which isn’t wrong, but I’m not sure I’ve spent much time just running to him the way a kid runs to a father, without a script, without checking first whether the words come out right.

Adoption is the word Paul uses, not promotion. A slave has to earn a place. A son already has one. I don’t have to work my way up to being close to God. He made that decision before I did anything to deserve it.

So today I’m not aiming for the most composed prayer I can manage. I’m just going to say “Father,” maybe even “Dad,” and see what happens when I stop managing the distance myself.

What would change in how you pray if you actually believed you could say that too?

Today’s Bible Study

Mark 14:36 is the only place in the Gospels where Jesus himself prays using this word. In Gethsemane, right before his arrest, he says, “Abba, Father, all things are possible for you. Remove this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.” That isn’t a composed prayer. That’s a son in real anguish, still reaching for his Father first, not managing his words for anyone. If the Son of God prayed that honestly in his worst hour, maybe the honesty I keep editing out of my own prayers was never the problem to begin with.

Recommended Reading

If this idea of adoption interests you, Scott Hahn’s A Father Who Keeps His Promises traces God’s fatherhood through every covenant in Scripture, from Adam to Christ. It’s a deeper look at exactly what Paul is drawing on in Romans 8. Fittingly, it comes out of the same St. Paul Center I’ve mentioned here before.