Abba Father: Embraced as God’s Child

Reflection

I watched a video online of a father who had been away on military duty, surprising his son with his return. The child could barely speak as tears filled his eyes and his emotions poured out. It was a mix of joy and deep longing finally satisfied. Nothing needed to be explained. The cry of his heart for his father was seen and felt without many words. The closeness, the admiration, the way he looked at his father said everything. Even watching through a screen, I felt it, and I could barely hold back my own tears.

Watching that video, I was struck by how much emotion could be felt without many words being spoken. The child did not need to explain his longing. It was written all over his face. The tears, the hesitation, the way he clung to his father said everything. That kind of closeness does not come from obligation. It comes from relationship.

So when I hear the words Abba, Father, I cannot help but think of something deeply personal and cherished. It speaks of intimacy, trust, and belonging. Not a distant authority, but a Father who is known and loved.

In a culture where many children are rejecting their parents, I see a parallel to our own lives before believing in Jesus. Before salvation, even the most religious among us may go through routines and rituals, yet remain untouched by true relationship. There is activity, but no closeness. Knowledge, but no intimacy. We may acknowledge God, but there is no deep cry of the heart toward Him.

But something changes when His Spirit enters our lives.

Romans tells us it is the Spirit who moves us to cry out, Abba, Father. Not forced. Not rehearsed. It is a response awakened within us. Where there was once distance, there is now desire. Where there was once fear, there is now comfort. We are no longer approaching God as servants trying to earn approval, but as sons and daughters who belong.

I see this in my own walk with Him. Calling Him Abba Father is not just a title. It reflects a closeness I did not create on my own. I find myself cherishing each step toward Him, longing to please Him, not out of fear, but out of love. Like a child watching their father closely, wanting to walk like him, speak like him, and follow in his footsteps.

That is the quiet work of the Spirit. Drawing us near. Teaching us who we are. Reminding us that we are held, known, and loved as children, not strangers.