I've had a tough time lately with some "Life's Not Fair" moments that I'm much too coy to share. Really, the truth is that they aren't important - because the lesson I've been focusing on is this:
It's true, life isn't fair. Bad things happen to good people. Jerks are rich and famous and have easy lives. People we dislike are treated better than we are against (what we think) is all logic and sense. And the list goes on an on.
But in my own wallowing self-pity I've had this thought occur a few times this week: I'm lucky it isn't fair in so many ways. Not to be overly church-y or didactic - but it's like this: I am a punk kid from a crappy neighborhood that acted out in every way possible growing up. I treated people like dirt, insulted them, picked on them - stole, lied, cheated (mostly in math class, true story), etc, etc. I am still prone to great fits of moodiness, judging, anger, jealousy, back-biting, scheming, coniving - well, you get the picture. I'm perfectly imperfect.
But I have an amazing life by so many standards. Without even getting too deep into it - I live in a place where I drink clean water right from a tap in my home. I eat (at least) three times a day without worry, and a lot of other things along those lines. But also - today I was watching my kids play on the playground and I realized how lucky I really am - how smiled-upon my life really is. I have a wife that no one could've predicted - why someone so kind, loving, and beautiful would find love with a guy trying his hardest to push the boundaries of decency in humor for a cheap laugh is beyond me. But it happened.
I have two ridiculous kids. Soooo cute and so fun.
I have the job of my dreams (at least since I've known Jesus) and even the hardest parts are more than worth it. I get to talk about real life with teenager that can choose the path I couldn't find until much later. They don't always respond, but what an awesome specific redemption of the punk teenager I was!
I was raised by incredible, loving parents that equipped me well (and even bail me out now from time to time).
And a lot of other things that can fit in here are true, too.
It isn't fair that I should be set up so well. Even if there is a level of worldly "fair" that I am mad about missing out on, the real fair is right in front of me, and I'm missing it as I look past all of it to see what I could have in a hypothetical, never-going-to-be world. And that's the Jesus story in a practical way that I could probably never even work into a talk - he got me here by grace, not anything I earned or did.
The goal? Wake up tomorrow without reverting back to thinking the other way.
... and here's to hoping ...
