There’s a question I’ve wrestled with more times than I can count.

It usually shows up quietly — on the days when the world feels unfair in ways that can’t be ignored. You’ve probably asked it too, maybe in your own words:

Why does it feel like God picked certain people to have an amazing life… while others were born into struggle?

Why does one child get to be born in Malibu with a trust fund, a famous last name, and a private tennis coach at age 5 — while another child is born in a slum, dodging bullets and boiling dirty water for dinner?

Why do some people seem to have a straight shot to success, while others are running uphill just to survive?

It’s a hard question. One that doesn’t have a neat little bow on it.

But it’s a question worth sitting with.

Talent Isn’t Always the Difference

We’ve all heard the story: someone gets “discovered.” They post a video. Someone important sees it. And just like that, they’re a star.

Think of Justin Bieber, singing covers on YouTube. Or Taylor Swift, playing small shows until someone took a chance on her. Or LeBron James, who was born with a gift that couldn’t be denied — and also born in the right country, at the right time, with just enough support to develop that gift.

Now here’s the hard part:
There are probably thousands of other LeBrons and Taylors and Justins out there… who will never be seen. Not because they aren’t talented. But because they were born in the wrong zip code, the wrong skin, the wrong country, the wrong moment.

What do we do with that?

Privilege Wears Many Outfits

It’s easy to point to money as the ultimate privilege — and yes, economic advantage is real. But privilege comes in different forms:

• Being born male in certain cultures

• Being born white in a world that still gives whiteness more grace

• Being born American, with access to clean water, education, and the internet

• Being born without a disability

• Being born into a family that says “I believe in you” instead of “keep quiet and stay in your lane”

None of those things are achievements. They’re inheritances. And yet, they shape everything.

Someone in Uganda could have a voice that would bring people to tears. But no studio. No WiFi. No stage. No audience.

Someone in Appalachia could have the grit to run a Fortune 500 company. But no mentors. No network. No blueprint.

Meanwhile, someone with half the drive and half the heart might end up on Forbes — because the runway was cleared for them before they ever took their first step.

So… Did God Pick Them?

It can feel that way. And if I’m honest, I’ve had moments where I’ve looked up and asked, “What was the plan here?”

Why do some lives seem to float, while others are chained to struggle?

And here’s the truth I’ve come to sit with:

I don’t believe God plays favorites. But I do believe the world does.

And maybe… God is hoping that those of us with something — a voice, a platform, a resource, a privilege — will use it to close the gap for someone else.

Because privilege, left unchecked, can rot. But privilege, repurposed for service? That’s sacred.

The Assignment Is Uneven — But Not Without Purpose

We don’t get to choose our starting line. That’s not fair. And we shouldn’t pretend that it is.

But we can choose how we respond once we know where we stand.

If you were born in a place that gave you opportunity, remember that someone else wasn’t.

If you were born with a gift that got noticed, remember the ones who weren’t seen.

If your race, gender, or background made your path smoother, you’re not guilty — but you are responsible for what you do with that ease.

And if your path has been hard, you don’t owe anyone your pain. But your voice carries power the world needs to hear. You count. You matter. And your journey isn’t small just because it’s quiet.

Final Thought

I don’t think life is fair. I don’t even think it’s meant to be.

But I do believe we were meant to carry one another through the unfairness. To bridge the gaps. To turn our wins into wider access. To become the thing we wish we had.

Maybe God didn’t pick favorites.
Maybe God picked us — all of us — to see each other, and do something about it.

If this resonates with you, let it move you — not into guilt, but into grace with responsibility.
And if you’ve been walking through life wondering why your struggle seems heavier than someone else’s spotlight, know this: you’re not unseen.

I see you.
And more importantly, He sees you.