“Do not fear, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give
you the kingdom.”— Luke 12:32

When I read this verse recently, I didn’t just see sheep.

I saw myself rocking my newborn babies.

I remember those quiet middle-of-the-night moments — the house dark, everything still, just the rhythm of a rocking chair and the weight of a tiny life in my arms. And I remember the overwhelming thoughts that would rush in:

I want to protect them from everything.
I want to give them everything.
I want to make sure nothing ever hurts them.

There was no reluctance in me. No hesitation. No calculation. It was my good pleasure to love them, provide for them, and guard them.

And that’s the picture that flooded my mind when I read,
“Do not fear, little flock… for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”

I recently noticed this verse — and I say “noticed” because I’ve read Luke 12 before. I’ve studied it. I’ve even highlighted parts of it. But this sentence? It felt like it was written in bold just for me this time.

Maybe because lately, fear has been louder than usual.

Not dramatic fear. Not headline fear. Just the quiet, persistent kind.

Fear of letting go.
Fear of not being enough.
Fear of not having enough.
Fear of failing at something God has called me to do.

And right in the middle of Jesus talking about worry — about food and clothes and the future — He says something so tender it almost stops you: “Do not fear, little flock.”

Little flock.

Not high achievers.
Not “got it all together” women.
Not “never struggle” believers.

Little flock.

Jesus says this after telling His disciples not to worry about what they will eat or wear. He had just warned them about hypocrisy and greed. He knew persecution was coming. He knew life would not be easy for them.

And yet He doesn’t say, “Do not fear because everything will work out the way you want.”

He says, “Do not fear… because your Father delights to give you the kingdom.”

That’s different. He doesn’t remove uncertainty. He redefines security.

As mothers, we know something else too.

When our babies grow up, it gets harder to protect them.

They start making their own decisions. They step outside of our arms. They test boundaries. And sometimes our husbands gently remind us that we cannot, in fact, give them everything they want. 😉 And they are right; we are limited, we are human and we cannot override every consequence.

God, however, is not limited.

Nothing is too hard for Him. Nothing surprises Him. Nothing restricts His ability to protect and provide.

But here’s where it gently intersects with Luke 12: As our children grow, they can step outside our covering. And as believers, we can do the same.

Not because God loses power — but because we choose independence over trust.

In Luke 12, Jesus says the world runs after food, clothing, and security. The world grasps. The world hoards. The world chases.

But we are not the world. We are the Father’s little flock.

Sheep don’t manage the pasture. They stay near the Shepherd.

If I’m honest, most of my fear is rooted in control. I want to hold things tightly — plans, outcomes, reputation, provision. I want to make sure there’s enough. I want to make sure I am enough. I want to make sure nothing falls apart.

But sheep don’t hold the map. They follow.

What really strikes me about this verse is the phrase “good pleasure.” It is the Father’s good pleasure — His delight — to give you the kingdom. He isn’t reluctant. He isn’t stingy. He isn’t up in heaven sighing and rolling His eyes when I come to Him again with the same fear. He delights to give.

And not just daily bread — though He promises that too. He delights to give the kingdom. His rule. His presence. His inheritance. Security that cannot be shaken.

So maybe the issue isn’t that I’m not enough, don’t have enough, or don’t do enough.

Maybe the issue is that I keep measuring “enough” by temporary things instead of eternal ones.

The disciples were worried about daily needs. Jesus pointed them to eternal inheritance.

The kingdom is not earned by my performance. It is given by the Father’s pleasure.

That changes how I hold things. It softens my grip. It steadies my heart. It reminds me that even if something earthly wobbles, the kingdom does not.

So I challenge you (and me), when fear creeps in — and it will — practice a new response.

Instead of rehearsing worst-case scenarios, rehearse identity:

I am part of His flock.
My Father delights to give.
The kingdom is already mine in Christ.

Fear may still knock. But it doesn’t get to lead.

Your Heart Sister,
Mikki 💜

Fear shrinks when we remember whose flock we belong to.
We are not striving for security — we have been given the kingdom by a Father who delights to provide

Father, thank You that we are not responsible for holding everything together — You are. When fear whispers that we are not enough or that there won’t be enough, remind us of Your heart. Help us trust that You delight to give and that what You have given us in Your kingdom cannot be taken away. Teach us to loosen our grip, and stay close to You.  In Jesus Name we pray, Amen.