As a young child, my babysitter nicknamed me “wild child.” She was my next door neighbor’s oldest daughter, Debbie. I thought she hung the moon, she was fun and always made the separation from my parents less traumatic. I was not wild in the sense that I was disrespectful or dangerous, more that I was free-spirited and willing to take on an adventure with Debbie by my side.
The older I grew the farther I grew away from the “wild child” status. I became timid, fearful, and submissive to those around me. But deep inside, there was a make believe world where I would go on brave adventures, rescuing people in need, and facing dangers without fear. These adventures were always kept inside, hidden from those who would scold or criticize me for thinking of them.
In my late teens I began three years of rebellion against my parents and the ways they had taught me to live. During those three years, I thought I was being wild and that it was new and wonderful and that I was so independent. But I really wasn’t. I was just creating new ways to look at my homemade prison. I was stuck inside and would never be released without Christ.
In 1990, after I accepted Christ, I began the journey of healing, release, finding and understanding wholeness, being able to let go of hurt I caused others. I started to understand that to be a “wild child” did not mean a lack of boundaries, but a solid boundary inside which I could be fully free.
Now, after over twenty-five years, I am able to see the hints of what this could look like for me. It is a life that does not bind me to stereotypes, expectations, and a definite checklist. I am free to celebrate the joy of God in my heart. Free to stand in church with my hands held high, head tipped back, a wide smile on my face. I am also free to kneel at my chair in reverence to the Holy Spirit moving in me during our musical worship–even if everyone else is standing up.
Dear Ones, what about you? Are you the wild child held captive in the prison of your own making? Or are you the wild child, freed through the precious blood of Christ, running through the fields, hands held up, embraced by the sun and the wind- acknowledging all of the ways God has shown His everlasting love for you?
Being a wild child in Christ allows me to celebrate who He made me to become. Who He sees me to be right now. I am celebrated because I am His precious daughter. His dear, sweet love, the beautiful woman made for Heaven’s purposes.
This is who I am. I am God’s wild child and I am truly free.