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Survival Genes

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I am a Carson. Through and through. My whole physical being identifies with them as with none other of my family lines. Maybe it's because "like prefers like", and like them I am. I get my pretty blue eyes, no-boobs, flat rear end, and skinny frame from Granny Carson. That kind of body isn't the best in the world for having children. Nevertheless, despite my small pelvic region that I got from my mother's line, I was able to pass those genes along to my three girls. Just like the women of those lines always did. In centuries past, how did women like me have children and breast feed them? How? That's been my question.

Also, I was perhaps considered the "weak" one of my family, friends and husbands. Yet all but a couple of them are dead. I am not. Why? That's another question.

Lying in bed this morning, I finally figured it out. The instinct for survival isn't always enough. It must be accompanied by a strong will and refusal to give up in the worst of times and situations, no matter what the odds are.

For example: In 1969 when our boat was overloaded with several people aboard and sank at 10:30 at night in the middle of Boulder Basin at Lake Mead in Nevada, it was a prostitute and I who got out of that lake - not the strong swimmers and macho guys. And I can't swim! Oh, I could do a few side strokes at a time and dog paddle. That's it. But I got out of those stormy waters with six-foot waves. And so did that girl who everybody looked down upon. We survived, and we got help so that the others who were clinging to a piece of wood could survive. We took action to survive instead of waiting helplessly for rescue. That is often the difference in surviving or not - taking action. In other words, taking charge of the situation by refusing to give up.

I think another reason I've been able to survive is due to my compulsive need to "what if". I was always trying to figure out what to do in case something happened. I wanted to be prepared to deflect danger, so I was always thinking of what action to take in case of a "what if". I guess it worked.

In all fairness, I can't give all of the credit to my Granny Carson genes. I probably got most of that toughness from my mother. She was the ULTIMATE survivalist! She had a pretty rough life. Uneducated, she always had to struggle, trying to figure out how to get by. Like the women of my generation and before, it was usually through some man. Plus, she also had a small pelvic region. I almost killed her during my birth. Yet she didn't die. She lived to be 79 years old.

But most of all, I know for sure who put the "survival" mode in me. It was my great-grandmother, Ida Jewell Harris. It was SHE who blessed our family with Jesus. It was she who wrote in her Bible: "Let the circle be unbroken".

So, in the end, it is JESUS CHRIST who has helped me through this life. He has protected me, despite all I went through. He is protecting me still and has provided me with the most important survival gene of all. I received it when I was reborn into God's family and was endowed with the gift of Eternal Life.

When you think about it, in the long run, it doesn't matter how many years we spend on this earth. It's whether are not we will survive throughout eternity. Mortal genes and who your forefathers were are of no avail there. It's a whole lot better than that. We start all over with NEW "genes" that Jesus gives us. You can't get better than that.

always got knocked down every time I turned around.