There is no equality

I apologize in advance to those this column might offend, because it will hit many where they are most vulnerable – in their pain.

We are required to live a no-excuses life.

A reader left a message on my voice mail after I wrote that the beauty of America was our freedom to struggle, to be better, to do better, to determine our own fate in life.

She was angry, said I wasn’t compassionate, said there are millions without health insurance and struggling, said I had a good job, that there is no equality, that life isn’t fair.

She’s right. Life isn’t fair. There is no equality. Everyone is not treated equally or given the same gifts or have the same odds or resources to pull themselves up by the bootstraps.

It’s not fair that a debilitating illness finds some while others skirt through life disease-free.

It’s not fair that some are born into privilege, others poverty. It’s not fair that some are forced to attend schools where ceilings crumble and sewage floods the hallway while others are schooled in districts with $200 million building programs.

It’s not fair that some are born into the land of plenty while others are born into a country rife with genocide.

It’s not fair that death steals a friend’s daughter while I still get to kiss my kids on the cheek every night.

Life is unfair. But that doesn’t change one irrefutable fact: Each of us still has primary responsibility for the shape of our lives.

God still requires each of us to do our best, to fulfill the purpose for which we’ve been placed on Earth. And the longer you focus on what you don’t have or how unfair life is, the less likely it is that you’ll find that purpose.

“God didn’t promise us a glory bed of ease,” my mom always reminded us.

What he promised is to help order our steps, to always be present, to assure that everything – everything – will work to the good of those who believe.

Do you believe or do you think he was kidding about that?

But he requires us to do everything – and only everything – we can do. God will take care of the rest.

That doesn’t mean doubt won’t arise, doesn’t mean our steps toward God’s purpose will be orderly or even, doesn’t mean we won’t hurt. That doesn’t mean seasons to recover from or adjust to our pain won’t be necessary.

It’s not a show of compassion to shield people from this reality: If excuses make sense in your life, then God doesn’t.