When I was in the 6th grade, we moved about a mile from the library. I loved it! I read TONS. I drew. I dreamed. I listened to the radio. (Okay, it was 80s music, but I listened.)
It wasn’t until I was 27 years that I met my biological dad. And guess what? His mother was an artist. His sister makes quilts. His brother and numerous cousins write. My sister sings. My other sister is very crafy. My other sister is a photographer and webdesigner. My grandfather, great-grandfather, great-great (you get the picture) were missionaries … from all the way back to Luther, or so I’m told.
It was amazing to discover a spiritual and artistic heritage I never knew. It was “there” but it wasn’t until later I discovered why. It was in my genes. Another thing … my dad is a huge history buff, and guess what I write?
Sometimes things like these are hard to understand, but very cool.