As a little girl, my siblings and I created all sorts of clubs. They were very exclusive. Mind you, all club meetings were held in the toolshed in our back yard, and membership was limited to the four of us. Five, if you count our pet tortoise who would seasonally hibernate behind the shovels but was always prompt for the meetings. Significant debates centered around the precise name of our club and who would hold the office of president that day. It was usually me.

Being a part of a club is rewarding. Membership comes with privileges as well as responsibilities. It is the comradery that is most appealing—knowing that you are with a group of people who share the same interest, ideas, hobbies, and goals. These people understand you like many people can’t. They use the same vocabulary and expressions, and share an enthusiasm around the topic that others, outside of the club, are unable to.

Over the years, I’ve been a member of a wide variety of clubs. Some of the more noteworthy were: the pastor’s kid club, the moved-to-a-new-state-in-middle-school club, the good-kid-in-youth-group club, the I-married-a-mountain-man club, the cookie-dough-is-a-food-group club, and the elementary school teacher club. Some of the less popular memberships have included: the traveling-across-the-ocean-with-children club, or learning-a-new-language-after-the-age-of-thirty club, and the waiting-on-paperwork-(again)-for-my-residency-visa club.

Maybe, like you, I am also a member of several clubs I do not like nor did I choose to be a part of. The miscarriage club, the my-mom-has-cancer club, the repeatedly-mocked-for-language-mistakes club, and the my-child-is-shamed-at-school club. I wish I could tear up those membership cards.

Hebrews chapter 11 is known as the Hall of Faith. Retelling the stories of the ones that have gone before us who boldly put their trust in the LORD. Most never got to see the promises of the Lord come to fruition. Chapter 12 of Hebrews, verse one says that we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. The witnesses are the ones named in chapter eleven, and, I believe, other saints that have gone before us. The author reminds us that we are not alone in this journey.

It is as if we are a part of an extensive club whose members go all the way back to Abel. Membership is marked by bold faith and hope. The president of this club is our heavenly Father. And, the only way to get in? You’ve got to “know a guy.” His one and only Son.

My heavenly Father knows that I have categorized my own journey of faith with memberships to clubs that I have invented. Thankfully, he is also teaching me that the only club I need to be a part of is actually called a family. Being called a child of the King is the only club membership that has any privileges and responsibilities worth giving my life for.