Motherhood is a gift. It’s beautiful, it’s demanding, and it’s one of the clearest pictures we have of sacrificial love. Whether it’s through birth, adoption, foster care, mentorship, or spiritual motherhood—so many women have poured themselves out in ways that reflect the heart of God.
And today, on this special day, I want to begin by sharing a glimpse into a story that’s deeply personal for our family—because it’s shaped the way we’ve come to understand both the beauty and the cost of love.
It was April 20, 2018. Natalie and I stood in a courtroom at the Montgomery County Courthouse with our children gathered around us. We had spent nearly four years in a long, prayerful process—endless phone calls, stacks of paperwork, interviews, waiting, and wondering. And now, standing before a judge, a 10-year-old boy from Uganda officially became our son.
His name was changed that day. He became a Lawson. And in that one moment, everything changed. He became our child—not just emotionally (that had already happened), but legally and tangibly. Not just in our hearts, but in the eyes of the law. From that point forward, he wasn’t a guest in our home. He wasn’t a temporary part of our life. He is family. Ours. Forever.
It was beautiful … but it wasn’t easy.
Adoption rarely is. There’s always pain somewhere in the story—loss, brokenness, uncertainty. And yet, in the middle of that struggle, love steps in. Love chooses to stay. Love fights through the mess. That day in court marked a milestone on a long, hard road—but the road didn’t end there. It kept going. It still goes on. Because welcoming a child into your home isn’t a one-time decision. It’s a lifelong commitment.
Nearly four years later, on February 15, 2022, we found ourselves on a very different—but equally life-changing—path. We were handed a tiny four-day-old baby boy, fresh from the hospital. No heads-up. No plan. Just a text message that redirected our family in an instant. We didn’t know what the future would look like. We didn’t have guarantees. But we had one thing to offer: love. Love that provides. Love that welcomes. Love that says, “You belong.”
I’ll be honest—adoption isn’t tidy. It’s unpredictable. It’s messy. It’s costly. But it’s real and it’s powerful. Because adoption brings a child from the outside in. From uncertainty to security. From longing to belonging.
And that’s not just our story; it’s your story too, because it’s God’s story.
In Romans 8, Paul tells us that we have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again—but a Spirit of adoption, by which we cry out, “Abba! Father!” And in those two words—“Abba, Father”—something incredible happens. We’re not just set free … we’re welcomed home.
That’s what I want us to recognize today: Through the Spirit, God sets us free and welcomes us into His family.
Salvation isn’t just about being declared innocent. It’s about being embraced as a child. It’s not just that God forgives your sin—He invites you into His home. He calls you His own.
So as we work our way through our key text, Romans 8:12–17, we’ll discover the beauty of what it truly means to belong—to be known, to be loved, and to be welcomed home.
Paul begins this section with the words, “So then …” or your translation may say, “Therefore …” – and that points us back to everything he’s just said. There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. We’ve been set free. We’ve been made alive. We’ve been indwelt by the Holy Spirit. And now, Paul shifts from what is true about us to what’s expected of us. Because the gospel doesn’t just change our status—it changes our allegiance. In Christ …
I. We Are Called to a New Allegiance (vs. 12-13)
Let’s look together at verses 12-13 – “So then, brothers and sisters, we are under obligation, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh—for if you are living in accord with the flesh, you are going to die; but if by the Spirit you are putting to death the deeds of the body, you will live.”
Paul starts with this powerful word: “obligation.” It’s the language of a debtor—someone who owes something to someone else; they are under obligation. And here’s what he says of us …
A. We Owe Nothing to the Flesh
Look again at verse 12: “... we are under obligation, not to the flesh …”
That old master—our fleshly nature, with its cravings, pride, addictions, and insecurity—never gave us anything but death. It didn’t serve us; it enslaved us. It made promises it could never keep. It whispered, “This will satisfy you,” but left us more empty than ever before. That’s what the flesh does.
And now, in Christ, Paul says—don’t be fooled. You’re not in debt to your old life. The flesh has no claim over you anymore. So we don’t owe it a final thrill or one more secret indulgence. We don’t owe it even one more minute of our loyalty.
Paul is telling us to renounce it. Don’t coddle it. Don’t negotiate with it. Don’t try to tame it. The life you once lived apart from God—no matter how appealing it may have seemed at the time—only leads to ruin.
Paul doesn’t sugarcoat this. He gives us this solemn warning in verse 13: “If you are living according to the flesh, you are going to die.” That’s a strong word and we need to hear it.
It’s important to realize—Paul isn’t warning outsiders here. He’s speaking to believers: “So then, brothers and sisters …” He’s telling us plainly: if we hand the reins of our life back to the flesh, the outcome isn’t just damage—it’s death. Not physical death—we all face that. But a kind of spiritual death. A severing of our fellowship with God. A forfeiting of the life we were meant to live.
That’s the warning: “... brothers and sisters … if you are living according to the flesh, you are going to die.” But then comes the promise: “… but if by the Spirit you are putting to death the deeds of the body, you will live.”
We are called to a new allegiance: we owe nothing to the flesh and …
B. We Are Empowered by the Spirit
Notice that this isn’t passive. Paul says that we are to put to death the deeds of the body. That’s active. That’s warfare language.
We are called to kill the deeds of the flesh. Not ignore them. Not manage them. Not excuse them. Kill them. And not just once. It’s a daily, ongoing action.
Every day, we’re called to wage war against sin—not because we’re trying to earn our salvation, but because we belong to a new Master. We’re under a new allegiance.
And the battle isn’t fought in our own strength—it’s fought by the Spirit. We are empowered by the Spirit! That’s the key. You don’t fight sin alone.
The same Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead now lives in you (v. 11).
He convicts you. He equips you. He empowers you.
He gives you strength to say, “No!” when your flesh screams, “Yes!”
He gives you eyes to see sin for what it really is.
He gives you grace to confess, power to change, and hope when you feel stuck.
So hear this, especially if you’re tired or ashamed or discouraged:
This isn’t about perfection. It’s about direction; the ongoing pattern of your life.
It’s not about never falling. It’s about never settling.
The struggle doesn’t mean you’re failing—the struggle means you’re fighting.
And if you’re fighting … that’s a sign that the Spirit is alive and working in you.
Here’s what this means on a practical level:
It means you call sin what it is—you don’t dress it up or downplay it.
It means you take real steps to cut off temptation—cancel the subscription, block the number, confess to a friend, set up accountability.
It means you keep showing up. Even when you stumble. Even when it’s difficult.
It means that every time you fall, you don’t run away in shame—you run toward the Father, because you are His child.
You’ve been set free from the law of sin and death.
You’ve been filled with the Spirit of life.
This is what it means to walk by the Spirit.
This is what it means to live under a new allegiance.
Because the Spirit doesn’t just show you the way—He gives you the power to walk it.
And so Paul begins by reminding us that in Christ, We are Called to a New Allegiance and then, in Christ …
II. We Are Brought into a New Relationship (vs. 14-15)
In verses 14 and 15, Paul shifts from responsibility to identity. Because life in the Spirit isn’t just about what we fight against—it’s about who we now belong to. It’s not just a way of living. It’s a new relationship entirely.
A. We are led by the Spirit
Verse 14 tells us: “For all who are being led by the Spirit of God, these are sons and daughters of God.”
Don’t miss how significant that statement is. Paul doesn’t say that being led by the Spirit is reserved for the spiritual elite—those who fast every other day, pray through the night, or never miss a Sunday. No—he says all who are led by the Spirit are sons and daughters of God. In other words, this is not the exception—it’s the birthmark of every believer. As sons and daughters of God, we are being led by the Holy Spirit.
This is not waiting for some mystical prompting before you make a decision. It’s not about goosebumps or warm fuzzy feelings. Being led by the Spirit means walking in step with His desires, which are revealed in the Word of God. It means submitting your life, day by day, to the guidance of the Holy Spirit who lives within you.
Listen, the Spirit doesn’t always lead us into comfort and He will never lead us into compromise—He always leads us toward holiness. He leads us away from the desires of the flesh and into a life that looks more and more like Jesus. And that’s the key identity marker here: You know you’re a child of God not because you’re perfect, but because the Spirit is leading you to live like Jesus.
You may not always feel like you’re doing it well. You may stumble, struggle, and wrestle. But if your heart is pulled toward God—if you’re being convicted, drawn, corrected, and encouraged by the Spirit—that’s not you just trying harder. That’s the Spirit doing what He does in the life of a child of God.
So the real question isn’t, “Do I feel led?”
The better question is, “Am I walking where the Spirit leads?”
Are you being drawn toward holiness?
Are you surrendering to His guidance in areas of obedience, trust, and repentance?
Because when the Spirit is leading you, it is undeniable evidence that you belong to the family of God.
We are not only led by the Spirit, but …
B. We are welcomed by the Father
Paul goes even deeper in verse 15: “For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons and daughters by which we cry out, ‘Abba! Father!’”
This is where things shift from identity to intimacy. In Christ, we are brought into a new relationship. The Spirit doesn’t just lead us in the ways of God—He welcomes us into the family of God.
Paul says we have not received a spirit of slavery. In other words, God didn’t rescue us from sin just to shackle us with fear again. He didn’t set us free from one kind of bondage only to put us under a new kind of pressure. That’s not the gospel.
What we’ve received instead is the spirit of adoption. And that word—adoption—carried incredible weight in first-century Roman culture. It was a legal act, a deliberate choice to welcome someone into your family. It wasn’t an act of pity—it was an act of purpose. The adopted child gained full rights and inheritance as a true son or daughter.
That’s the picture Paul is painting. God has adopted us into His family. We’re not just forgiven criminals—we’re beloved children. The Holy Spirit brings us into God’s family, and we are welcomed by the Father.
And notice how we speak to Him: “we cry out, ‘Abba! Father!’”
This is not a formal, polished prayer. It’s the sound of deep trust and dependence. It’s the word a child uses when they’re reaching for the arms of the one they know loves them most.
It’s like when my 3-year-old holds out his arms and says, “Daddy … hold you, please.” That’s “Abba.” That’s the heart of a child crying out, not with fear, but with confidence and belonging.
This is not just about access to God—it’s about confidence in God’s love for us as His children. Through the Spirit, God sets us free and He welcomes us into His family.
So let me say this to your heart today: You don’t have to earn your place with God—you belong. You’re not a guest. You’re not on probation. You’re not an outsider looking in.
If you are in Christ, you are a child of God who has been welcomed home by the Father.
In Christ, We are Called to a New Allegiance, in Christ, We are Brought into a New Relationship, and finally, in Christ …
III. We Are Promised an Eternal Inheritance (Vs. 16-17)
Look at what we see in verses 16 and 17 – “The Spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, heirs also, heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him so that we may also be glorified with Him.”
The Spirit not only empowers us and adopts us … He guarantees our inheritance.
A. We receive all that belongs to God
Notice again: “The Spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, heirs also …”
That word—testifies—is legal, courtroom language. The Holy Spirit stands as a divine witness and confirms the truth deep within you. He reminds you who you are, especially when you’re tempted to doubt it.
Because let’s be honest—we don’t always feel like God’s children, do we? Life gets heavy. Our sin feels strong. Our circumstances seem chaotic. But the Spirit testifies with deep assurance that we are the children of God.
And here’s what that means: If we are children, then we are heirs.
Not just heirs to blessings or spiritual perks. Paul says we are heirs of God. Let that sink in. “... we are children of God, and if children, heirs also, heirs of God ...”
God Himself is our portion. He is our inheritance. His presence is our reward. His promises, His joy, His kingdom—they are all now ours in Christ. This is an inheritance we could never earn and a promise we could never deserve.
This is the grace of God. This is the love of the Father.
I love what we read in 1 John 3:1–“See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!” (NIV)
We receive all that belongs to God and …
B. We share all that belongs to Christ
Look again at Verse 17—“… and if children, heirs also, heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him so that we may also be glorified with Him.”
Don’t rush past that phrase—fellow heirs with Christ; co-heirs with Christ. That means everything the Father has given to the Son, He now shares with us. The status, the favor, the access, the eternal reward. We are not spectators in God’s kingdom—we are sons and daughters seated at the table with Jesus.
But don’t miss the path that leads us there: “… if indeed we suffer with Him so that we may also be glorified with Him.” Suffering isn’t optional for those who follow Christ. It’s not a glitch in the system. It’s part of the journey. Misunderstanding. Rejection. Hardship. Loss. Sacrifice.
But hear me—suffering is not the end of the story. It’s not a detour. It’s not punishment.
It’s part of the path. And just as Christ suffered and was raised, we who are united with Him will share in His resurrection glory.
The cross always gives way to the crown.
As Paul says in the very next verse—which we’ll explore next week—“... the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.”
So if you’re in Christ, your future is not in question. You may feel like you’re limping through life—but the Spirit testifies that you’re headed home. You may be worn down by trials, barely holding on—but the One who holds you has promised an inheritance that cannot be shaken.
And nothing—not suffering, not shame, not seasons of struggle—can undo what God has declared to be true. If you are in Christ, you are a child of God. And through the Spirit, God has set us free and He welcomes us into His family.
Romans 8 opened with a verdict: “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” That’s the voice of the Judge. The gavel drops. The case is closed. In Christ, you are not guilty.
But the beauty of the gospel is that God doesn’t stop there. He does something even more staggering. The Judge steps down from the bench. He takes off your chains. He lifts your face and says, “Come home with Me, My child. You’re not just forgiven—you’re Mine.”
God the Judge becomes God the Father.
That’s the gospel. That’s the grace of adoption.
The Father is watching and waiting—not with crossed arms, but with arms wide open. If you’re in Christ, you’re already His. But if you’ve been running, wandering, or doubting … come home. The door is open. The Father is waiting. And He’s ready to welcome you as His child.
