Sovereignty isn’t a wheel
There are pies cooling on the counter and Chex mix in the oven. All of the Sparklings are home, although the Jr. Spark is at work and won’t actually be under the roof for a while yet. There are two little GrandSparks tucked into bed in a nearby room, and somewhere there are two totally useless dogs and three ridiculous cats digesting food they didn’t earn and using up our oxygen. The fridge and pantry are full of food and pre-food. We are well and our basic needs are met. It is cold outside but warm in here.
By almost any worldwide standard, this is outrageous wealth.
I did not choose where or how I was born. I didn’t choose the era of time or sociopolitical climate. I didn’t choose my gender or my talents or my physical attributes. These were given to me by an act of sovereignty that I don’t pretend to comprehend.
I am not a child soldier in a war-torn third world nation.
I am not a woman in a country under Sharia law.
I am not confined in a broken adult body with the mental capacity of an 2-year old.
I am not limited by a caste system that determines my identity because of who my parents are.
I am not living in a plague-infested country before the advent of public sanitation or antibiotics.
I am not a slave for those who consider me less than human and exploit me with full public acceptance of that behavior.
I am not a member of a primitive tribe who has never heard about Jesus.
I am not so “privileged” that I have never learned to do things for myself, or that I cannot relate to suffering or poverty on any real level.
I wasn’t born into a time or place where women weren’t taught to read or write, or had any real civil liberties.
I was born now. In this time, for this time, for these generations, with the abilities and potential and opportunities I have. It wasn’t without some significant opposition, either, but when God says now, well…it’s now. I didn’t choose.
No…I was chosen.