Some kids are born into situations we could never imagine.
By we, I mean people just like ME.
And I'm being specific here because there are so many people who don't have to imagine.
It. Is. Their. Reality.
It's their heritage.
It's inescapable for them.
I am grateful for who I am,
and proud of where I come from.
But I refuse to close my eyes, and my heart, to preserve an illusion.
I now know we don't all start out in this world equal.
No, as for me, I am beginning to see.
And I want you to imagine with me.
It's going to take grit, and humility and courage.
Because it is not pretty, or neat or logical.
And we don't want to acknowledge a reality that illuminates our connection to it.
Because that reality, when known, requires something of us.
We soon see our hand that played a part in that dirty mess.
And as soon as we know it, we feel the weight of it.
And it's painful.
And we have been afforded so much, we earned our right to preserve ourselves from pain...
and it feels unfair to us...
that WE should have to know it and feel the weight of it too.
We all deserve some of what we have. We work hard for it. It's ours.
Work is a gift.
I see now...even that I took for granted.
So much, usually that part which we are unaware, was handed to us...
Our heritage, our skin color, our health, our connections, our social structures, our language, our families...
We take a step into someone else's reality, someone who is not like us, and all the things we stood on,
that made it look like we have what we deserve and they got what they deserve, just come crumbling down.
But in that brokenness there is untethered love that can't be found anywhere else.
There is joy in the sharing.
There is unearth gratitude.
There is light.
There is purpose.
There is the kingdom of God, on earth as it is in heaven.
(Picture of my beautiful son, Andy, who I pray every day will be a light in the world. He already is.)