What made me so lucky?
Because it’s surely nothing I did on my own because I’m pretty awful.
I’m prone to wander.
I’m prone to lie.
I’m prone to hate.
I’m prone to everything under the sun.
So what made me so lucky?
I write this as I sit on a bus in Africa, making our way through yet another country.
I ask this question because I look out the window and I see poverty, everywhere.
I see huts upon huts.
I see tiny homes for not so tiny families.
I see kids standing on the side of the road, no shoes, dirty clothes, selling food for a days wage.
I see women at the well pumping for more water because this one spout in the middle of this one field is the only source for water.
I see miles of open grass eager for buildings but no resources to make it happen.
What made me lucky enough to grow up in a home that loved me. To have not 1 but 3 supportive parents. To have the best siblings. To get a college degree. To not only have owned one car but two when some don’t even see one in their whole lifetime. To never go hungry because my mom couldn’t afford to feed us. To own more than 1 pair of shoes. To be told I can do and be anything I want to and it actually be true.
What made me lucky enough to have my birth right, to have my life?
I see people and I see poverty and I cry.
I wish so badly you could see what I see. I wish my words could properly articulate everything.
I have wanted so badly to get out of Africa, I still do, but the sad part is I only had to live here for 3 months. These people live here their whole lives. I see this for 85 days, they will see this for a hell of a lot longer than that. I sit here crying as I ask myself what made me so lucky.
I got to grow up and be a kid in suburban America.
I got to learn how to drive by 16.
I got to live in the best state there ever was.
I got to be a reckless teenager and become a well- rounded adult.
I got to graduate not just high school but college.
I got to do and have all of these things but still….
I complain about the things I don’t have, the things I do have and everything in between.
I worry about coming back home to nothing, no car, no job, no money, nothing.
Reality is, I’m coming back to everything, my loving family, friends, food, a home and endless opportunities.
I’m reminded I’m leaving the places that have nothing, not the other way around.
America, I’m so thankful to have had you as my playground for the past 23 years.
I’m thankful to my parents who pushed for a better life for me, to see better days than they themselves saw.
But I’m even more thankful to God because He hand picked me for this life. Sometimes I suck at it but sometimes I’m really good at it. Truth is I didn’t do anything to deserve my last name, let alone my birth right but it’s not about what we have, it’s about what we do with what we have.
So what are you doing with what you’ve got?
