Although my eyes are nondescript, my driver’s license claims they’re “blue.”  Actually the color could be a blob of green, brown, and blue paint. The license is just a guess. Other parts of me are quite descriptive. My fingers are short and stolid—nothing to look at but great for playing forte on the final chord. My hardy feet can wear out anybody’s 7 ½ hand-me-down shoes. Thick head of hair, rather long nose, attached ear lobes, and wide teeth attest to my parents’ genes and chromosomes.

Recently I read a poem about God’s genes in us. We can’t look like God who is Spirit, but Matthew Kelly’s book Rediscover Jesus begins with a story in which a blind woman asks someone who helps her, “Are you Jesus?”

Be grateful for God’s genes, and let the wonders of divine heredity work in you. We can be sons and daughters in whom God is well pleased and sees the Godself. Imagine God saying, “You’re a spittin’ image of Me.”