Molded

As I recount my personal history – every experience I’ve had, every acquaintance I’ve met, every culture I’ve tasted, every heart I’ve broken, every time someone’s broken mine, every time I’ve found myself astray in a fallen world, every salty tear that has run down my cheek, every time that I’ve cried out to the heavens, every time I’ve wondered if they exist, every praise that has left my lips – all of this has molded me into who I am and am still becoming.
I often wonder who I’d be if those experiences were altered in one way or another. How drastically would it have changed who I am today? What percentage does each of those experiences account for in the bigger spectrum of life? If one thing would have changed, would I have met my husband whom I now can’t imagine life without? The thought makes me nervous for my past self.
If I hadn’t made mistakes, would I have learned the lessons that I now know? Would I have the same appreciation for grace, or would I have taken it for granted?