Imagine choosing your parents
I woke up this morning with an odd thought – imagine you could choose your parents. Who would you choose? I know, you wouldn’t change a thing. Or the lessons you learned made you who you are today. Or you don’t want to talk about it. But play along; it’ll be fun. Who would you choose? You could choose rich parents, gorgeous parents, talented parents. You could be born to Hollywood icons or world leaders. You could be born in any country you wanted and have anything you wanted. It would shape who you are and how your life turned out in ways hard to imagine. It would decide your language and accent. I’ve always thought a British accent would be so much cooler than a southern drawl. Would you choose someone brilliant or someone who loved life and had a good time? Would you live in a tropical paradise or by ski slopes in the mountains?
How much difference did your parents make?
Was your life set in stone at birth or did you choose who you are and where you are? How much control do you have? How much blame/credit do they share? I prefer to think I chose my path. I’ve seen people come from terrible circumstances and re-make themselves. But then there are those members or creative dynasties like famed composer Randy Newman. Three uncles and two cousins of his are also film composers. Chance? Jonathan Kelleman, best selling writer, and Faye Kellerman, best selling writer, have two daughters who are writers: Jessie Kellerman, bestselling novelist and award-winning playwright and Aliza Kellerman, who co-wrote a novel with her mother. Then there are all of those Hollywood dynasties like these Top Twenty
Dynasties always begin with someone
But then John Grisham’s parents had no formal education. His father farmed cotton and worked construction. His mother was a homemaker who encouraged John to go to college. Or surfer dude A. Garrett Lisi who came up with “An Exceptionally Simple Theory of Everything”, which shocked the world of physics while surfing and snowboarding the world “without an academic position.” Who knows, maybe that’s me. Or possibly you. Okay, more likely you, but it’s the principle of the thing, alright? Anyway, what was I saying?
Who did God choose?
Here’s the point, God had the choice. He could have chosen any time and any parents. He chose a carpenter and a young woman. Joseph was what we would call today a “maker.” He built real things with his hands. Think about that. He created. The Creator of the universe chose a man who made things. Mary’s single distinguishing characteristic seems to have been an abundance of faith. That’s what interested God, the ability to think waaaay outside the box and believe.
Who He didn’t choose
God didn’t choose most of the things we think are important. Or at least the things we actively designate as important with our daily choices and time. They were no movie stars or geniuses. They didn’t appear on the cover of The Jerusalem Enquirer. They didn’t chisel best-selling tablets or scribe the scroll of the year. They weren’t royalty. They were common average folk, the kind God made so prolifically. That’s important.
They were us
God had no interest in impressing us. He’s God. He didn’t need to. The problem He had was trying to find a way to relate to us so we wouldn’t run away trembling. He chose common folks and came as a baby. Who’s scared of a baby? I bet he was cute. His parents weren’t elite. They were no more special than we are. But apparently that’s pretty special to God.
It’s not about self-esteem
I’m not trying to make you feel good about yourself. You really don’t need a bigger ego or more self-esteem. To regard yourself as worthy or great is a pathway to bigger mistakes. If you are great simply because you are you then others are great simply because they are them and we’re back to square one. It’s meaningless. Or arrogant. In the presence of omnipotence the truthful perspective is humility.
It’s about love
God loves the commonest of us. Not because we are great or think we’re great but because God is love. Our job is to try to see this staggering truth and be grateful. It doesn’t matter who our parents were. It doesn’t matter what small abilities we have. Thank goodness. We have no control over it. We can’t improve it. The idea is not to be as good as other people, or to strive to be better. That’s a pretty low standard. The idea is to appreciate the magnificence and love of God – who is willing to call Himself our Father – if we want – which is staggering.
I choose Him.
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