As we walked down roads and up alleyways, I could see the excitement in my father’s eyes as he shared stories from his childhood. If cobblestone roads could talk, stories of Revolution renegades and European exiles would emanate from the stones beneath our feet. San Miguel de Allende is a popular artist community full of brightly colored buildings and historic monuments that bring visitors from all over the world, even today.
Memories flooded our conversations as we walked aimlessly through dusty streets. He shared with me the struggles of growing up alone in the city. He shared with me the memories which canonized this magical city. He shared with me who he was, so I’ll never forget who I am.
There is something important about knowing your history. Knowing where you come from will determine where you are going.
At dinner last night we soaked in the quiet streets and boisterous crickets as we reminisced about where God has brought both of us. He and I have a passion for mobilizing people to love and serve God. But without our history of hurt, struggle, and pain, I’m not sure we’d be able to speak with conviction on the grace bestowed to us through the salvation of Christ.
In Leviticus the children of Israel are reminded over and over to impart their history of struggle to their children so they would never forget the miraculous deeds done for them. I’m not an Israelite, but today I heard the words of my father and as a child of God, I will never forget the miraculous deeds done for us through the Divine hand of God.
What are your roots? Where are you from? How has your journey determined the way you live your life?

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