I’m sorry, but yes, I AM lucky.

I was born in a country during a period when I was recognised as a person in spite of my lack of a penis (the bedrock measure of ‘personhood’ throughout every earthly kingdom) and the fact that I am not of the same ethnic or racial type as the majority of power-holders in my country. I was born to parents of reasonable means, in a time when the government supported and encouraged their citizens to grow and develop and thrive. When my father walked out, my mother was still able to provide for three girls by working part time and collecting a parenting payment available at the time. Had I needed to pay for my education, it would have been subsidised by a government loan with a marginal interest rate that only had to be paid back once I began earning at a certain threshold.

On a personal front, I have never been abused nor molested, I have experienced no accidents or health setbacks, I am neurotypical, intelligent, and physically fit. My parents’ style of parenting suited my personality, providing enough guidance for me to grow in a way that suited our society and social status. Throughout my childhood I was presented with the opportunities to thrive and learn and develop and grow.

I was raised in a space where I was taught that my personhood in the sight of the Divine was unchangeable, and that the Divine being knows me from the blackest cruelty to the most indifferent IDGAF of my nature and yet loved me enough to call me back to Him. I was precious in the eyes of the LORD, even when I did things that would sadden any parent trying to raise their child to be a good person.

Is this to boast about my life? Heavens, no!

But the self-satisifed mantra in the picture at the top of the page?

Don’t ever call me lucky.

I prayed, sacrificed, and worked hard for mine.

Apart from digging deeper into the productive capitalist fantasy rut of ‘if you work hard, get a good job, you’ll be able to live a comfortable life’, it’s 100% wrong.

I owe so much of what has happened to me to things outside of prayer, hard work, self-sacrifice.

Yes, I’ve made good on what I have — taken what was given to me and made more with it.

But also, God is not a vending machine of good things.

He is not a divinity who, if you do the right things, will give you the result you yearn for. I know that our culture has reduced Him to the most ethereal of Santa Clauses — giving good things to the good people, but God Himself tells us that’s not how it works. Jesus brings grace: a clean slate that you only have to accept. You don’t have to be good to get it, you don’t have to pay anything or bargain anything away. You just have to receive it.

(And in receiving it, you’ll want to follow in his footsteps. God is a God who changes His people: we none of us come away from His throne the same.)

To think that you put the right work in and you get the right stuff out is what’s known as the prosperity gospel. It’s a big thing in our society. Do the right thing, get the good stuff. Think the right thoughts, get the good stuff. Work hard, get the good stuff.

Prosperity theology is simply, If you do this right, then you will receive these good things.

Prosperity theology also crushes people’s souls. Because sometimes shitty things happen to good people, and what do we say then? That they didn’t pray hard enough or sacrifice enough or work hard enough? That it’s their fault that they are where they are, suffering as they are?

Maybe we do say that. Maybe we blame them for not being as good as we think we are for being born with so much.

But life is a little bit of roulette: where you’re born, who you’re born to, what you’re born as. My overall disadvantages (female, non-white) have been significantly reduced because of where and when I was born. My family is solid. My upbringing was guided but not enforced, and I was left as free as any child can be to live my own life. I live in a country where there is no war, no uncertainty of daily life, where yesterday was like today is like tomorrow will be — as it has been for decades upon decades.

I’ve had some issues in my life, but as dire as I thought of them at the time, they worked out —often significantly in my favour. Sure, I’ve worked hard for what I have, but I was also born lucky — so very lucky! And recognising that I started with all the advantages means I have the grace and gentleness to be kinder to those who didn’t.