Thousands of years ago, far from their ancestral home, there lived a family who were part of an ethnic group that had been exiled and reduced to the status of slaves. They were second-class citizens in a society where discrimination and prejudice were ingrained in every aspect of life.

The family, like their fellow exiles, had few rights and even fewer opportunities to rise above their assigned station. Survival meant being a productive member of their group, and so they toiled day in and day out, working the unforgiving fields, and laboring in the homes of the privileged. But survival was not their only concern; they were also parents, and their primary goal was to prepare their children for the harsh reality that lay ahead.

In this oppressive world, there was a grim tradition that haunted every parent's nightmares. Promising children, those who showed intelligence, charisma, or skills that marked them as exceptional, were taken away to the distant capital city to work for the king. There, they would be stripped of their cultural heritage, forced to conform to the ways of the majority, and serve the very system that had enslaved their people.

The family's unwavering commitment to their heritage wasn’t driven by a sense of superiority over their captors. It was rooted in a deep and abiding faith that one day, their people would be returned to their ancestral lands, a promise they believed was held in the hands of a higher power. They instilled this faith in their children, teaching them that their journey was not just about survival but also about preparation for the future that God had promised.

The stories of their ancestors' struggles were infused with a profound sense of divine intervention. These tales were more than historical accounts; they were parables that emphasized the strength of faith and the ultimate triumph of their people. The family believed that God had a plan for their redemption, and that one day, they would be liberated from their oppression.

This knowledge provided a beacon of hope in their darkest hours, a source of motivation and determination to pass on their heritage to the next generation. They knew that their children had to be ready for the day when they would return to their homeland, free from the bonds of servitude. It was a future they longed for, one that held the promise of restoration, justice, and revival.

As they raised their children, the family emphasized not just the practical skills for survival but also the spiritual strength that would sustain them in the face of adversity. They taught their offspring to embrace the beauty of their ceremonies, the power of their faith, and the connection to their cultural roots, knowing that these were the very elements that would carry them through the challenges of the present and into the promise of the future.

Their faith, deeply woven into their identity, became the driving force behind their resilience. It was a faith that inspired them to hold on to their traditions, maintain their language, and safeguard their customs, knowing that one day, God would guide them back to the lands from which they were exiled.

As the children grew and faced the complexities of a discriminatory world, they carried the words of the ancient scrolls within them like a hidden treasure. It was a beacon of light in their darkest moments, a constant reminder that their struggles were not in vain, but rather a path toward the fulfillment of a divine promise.

Childhood for the children of the free majority was a time of innocence, joy, and freedom from the burdens of the adult world. But for this family, childhood was preparation for the challenges that lay ahead. They began by sharing the painful history of their exile, explaining how their people were captured and enslaved. They spoke of their rich cultural heritage, recounting tales of their ancestors' bravery and resilience in the face of adversity. The children learned about the homeland they had never seen but held dear in their hearts.

As the children grew, they came to understand that they had to tread carefully, like a spider weaving its web in the dark. Their parents taught them the art of navigating below the radar, of playing the game without being noticed. They were shown how to adapt to the customs and expectations of the majority, all the while holding tightly to the essence of their true selves.

It was a delicate balance, and it was not without its sacrifices. While the children of the free majority enjoyed a carefree childhood, these young members of the exile community matured with a profound awareness of their identity, responsibilities, and the potential prejudices they might encounter. They knew they were being groomed not just to survive but to thrive in a world that will one day fade away.

Christian parents today understand that courage, too, can not be simply passed on as a mere family inheritance. Courage is a skill, and just like any other skill, it requires learning and practice. As our children observe our actions closely and emulate our example, they surely will acquire this essential quality.

Much like the family's tradition of teaching their children how to navigate the world of discrimination, our acquisition of courage involves closely studying those who exemplified it. For instance, figures like Daniel. We can draw on the inspiration from his unwavering strength in the face of adversity. 

In emulating Daniel's steadfastness, it is imperative to have a profound understanding of God's Word. Cultivating a deep and intimate connection with Jehovah, marked by open and frequent communication with him, is essential. Trusting in Jehovah, with unwavering conviction that His support is unwavering, is the cornerstone of our ability to show that we have the courage to maintain when our faith is put to the test.

Thank you for reading,
-Soli Jehova Gloria (1 Corinthians 10:31)