Growing up, I’d get defensive when people assumed my mother won the celestial lottery.
“I wish I had your mom’s genetics so I didn’t gain weight.”
Even good genetics fail after birthing 11 kids. I saw her work out every single day.
“I’d have a big family too if I could afford it.”
My father eventually figured out how to make it rain, but Mommy lived two years in a tent and trailer with six kids. She had amazing faith in God’s provision, and Daddy’s dreams.
“I would homeschool but I’m just not like your mom.”
Yes, Mother graduated several successful adults, but she was a “B” student, and I didn’t take a real science course until college. She taught us how to learn, and faced her fears and inadequate feelings every single day.
Even now, I’m learning more of what she went through, and more of the depth of her relationship with God.
It wasn’t the path of least resistance.
However, even with my beautiful mother as an example, I still fall prey to assuming someone was “born that way” when they have traits I admire.
A tree may be blessed with good root stock and an extra scoop of fertilizer. But if there’s fruit 20, 30, 50 years later . . . we’d better believe it took sun, water, pruning, many seasons, perseverance and a few storms.
A blessed life isn’t accidental . . . It’s created.
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