“No one’s perfect, you know.” This is not a good excuse when you’re trying to get yourself off the hook for having done something wrong, but it is a good description of our genetic makeup. The average person has 18 genetic mutations in his DNA.
One of my DNA mutations resulted in my eyes not developing as God knit me together in my mother’s womb. My parents didn’t know anything about this mutation until after I was born. It was a shock to them, and they experienced a sense of loss, but my mom comforted my dad with the reality that this is a temporal condition, not an eternal one.
While I was being tested and scanned to ensure there were no other abnormalities, my parents saw many infants who were battling life-threatening conditions. It struck them that I, in comparison, was a healthy baby.
I grew up in Chilliwack, B.C., where I spent my first 25 years. Though statistics show that many couples divorce when they receive a disabled child, I was blessed with parents who loved each other and stayed together. My home was a safe, loving, orderly place where my parents read the Bible and prayed, and they taught us children to do the same. Neither of my parents was converted at the time, but these activities proved to be foundational for all of us.
I grew up as a baptized member of a church that was large enough to have its own Christian school. I ...