God’s Baby Girl
by Angela Thomas
Traveling is part of my job, but it is also my delight.
One particular weekend, I had been speaking in Phoenix and was catching a flight to Los Angeles. At the same time, my then fiance, Scott, was flying from North Carolina to California. We were going to spend the weekend with my pastor and friend, Dennis, and his wife, Karen, for our premarital counseling weekend.
In front of me in the security line at the Phoenix airport were two ladies who obviously hadn’t flown recently. They were having the toughest time figuring out what to put on the conveyor belt to pass through the TSA x-ray. We started talking and laughing together. I helped them get their shoes in a gray bin. It was a hoot, watching these two peel off their layers and take off their jewelry, all while they laughed and complained to me that it was just too complicated. We had fun and I finally got them through to the other side.
A little while later, I was walking down one of the concourses and I spotted the two security-line ladies riding along on a people mover. They waved, and then one of them yelled over to me, “Why you walking? We’re riding this thing!”
I yelled back to them across the Phoenix airport, “I’m doing Jenny Craig!”
The one lady yelled back, again, across the entire concourse, “Why you doing Jenny Craig?”
I responded with something akin to a holler, “I’m getting maaarrrieeeddd!”
Well, those two ladies, whom I had never met until security, jumped off the people mover and came running to me, dragging their luggage and carry-ons behind them. Both of them, complete strangers, hugged me like I was their lost sister who had just won the lottery for the family. They were thrilled to talk to me. The lead girlfriend said, “Girl you gotta tell us everything!” Then the questions began. They wanted to know where we met, what he did, how long had I been a single mom.
As we walked along, we discovered we were all on the same flight bound for Los Angeles, so the talking continued as we made our way toward our gate. Somewhere along the way, the more vocal one stopped dead center in the concourse and said, “Wait a minute. Stop right here. I just gotta get something straight. Are you telling me that you got four kids and that this man you’re gonna marry ain’t got no kids, and he still wants you?”
I nodded and squeaked out, “Uh huh.”
Then she said to me, “Girrrllll, that man is blue chip stock,” and she snapped her fingers in the air to add more passionate punctuation.
I laughed out loud and told her that indeed he was.
We traveled together to LAX, and then I walked with my new best friends down to baggage claim. Scott and Dennis were standing there smiling like joy and happiness when we came around the corner. I said to my new girlfriends, “The tall one over there, he’s blue chip,” and they went running. Those two women wrapped him up in more hugging than he may have ever had at the same time. His big, 6’4″ frame was surrounded with two cute traveling ladies, both of them talking at the same time. He looked out over the top of their heads at me like he was trying to ask, Who are these two women?
I just smiled really big and said, “Meet my new best friends.”
So many times I’ve thought about what those two girlfriends said to me, “You got four kids and he still wants you?”
Those words spoke volumes about my heart for at least eight years of my life. I had become certain that no one would ever want me, at least not until the kids were grown. And then, we all might still be too much.
I learned that if I wanted to scare a man away, the quickest way to do that was to introduce myself like this, “Hi, I’m Angela and I have four kids.” Bam, that very friendly man instantly had something else to do. And I get it, five of us is a lot.
I am a Bible teacher—that is a big part of God’s purpose for me. I love the Word of God and believe it with all of my heart. But I have to be honest with you. In my soul, I sometimes heard Satan whisper, “No one is going to want a woman like you.” I heard him loud and clear. Most days I had enough sense to tell him to shut up. But on the weak days, on the days when the kids had been fussing and the air conditioning went out for the third time, on days like that, my weary heart would hear the voice of Satan… and listen.
I don’t know how Satan tells you that you’re insignificant, but I imagine he does—whether you’re single or married. Maybe you’ve heard some whispers like these:
The kids just call you when they need something.Your work is so boring, it doesn’t matter if you’re there.You didn’t get invited because they don’t want you around.Your body is unattractive.No one would ever want a woman like you.Your past is too shameful; you can’t be forgiven.
Lies. All of them lies. Each one calculated to steal a little piece of your confidence. Each one is constructed to make you hesitate. Live a little more reserved. Think less of God’s purpose for you.
When you hear the lies of Satan in your head, refocus your attention on who you truly are. You are the Father’s baby girl. A daughter of the King. I love that. Maybe you just skimmed over that powerful truth. So take a minute. Close your eyes. Take it in. Daughter of the King. Baby girl of God. And God has a purpose for you—no matter the circumstances of your life.
As His baby girl, you belong to Him. You are set apart and called for His purposes. Claimed for all eternity. You are a member of the royal family of God. A daughter of the Sovereign. And everyone knows that the daughter of a King is called His princess—and that He has great plans and a purpose for her.