I’m a red head. And I was raised Catholic. It only seemed natural growing up to assume I was Irish. Being adopted added to my fantasy. I took a lot of pride in my Irish heritage, even to the point of working at Irish pubs for my two stints in the restaurant biz while in college.
Growing up, one of my best friends was of British heritage. And was Episcopalian. We would joke that if we lived in Northern Ireland, we would be bitter enemies. We would play war; I would be in the IRA while he would represent the Orange Order.
Turns out I’m not an Irish Catholic after all and the fantasy was left to childhood games. I have yet to go to the Emerald Isle while I’m grateful to live in a country of unprecedented religious freedom.
“From one man he made every nation of men, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live. God did this so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us.” (Acts 17:26-27)
Who knows what my life would be like now if these fantasies were true? Would I have hated my best friend? I know my family would be very different. My relationship with God would likely be vastly different as well.
Today we all get to pretend we’re Irish. Even if we don’t look the part. So while it’s fun to pretend what is not, we should not forget to be grateful for what is.
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