Breaking Generational Curses

I have spent some time over the past few months looking up my family history on ancestry.com. I've talked with my father a bit about the little information he knows about his parents' family and my mother already has a tree going waaay back that I was able to see.

I was lucky and actually found my biological grandfather on another user's tree and after a few emails we have decided that we are indeed related even though neither of us knew my grandfather (she is his half-sister). I have also discovered a lot of brokenness in my family's history on both sides. I guess I've always known divorce ran rampant throughout my family but seeing the physical evidence in new to me. And there appears to be a lot of secrecy and abandonment in my family's history. I can only predict that was probably a lot of worldly factors such as alcohol, lust and abuse leading to the incredible amount of brokenness in my biological line - but knowing what we know now, I'm sure there was a lot of that going on. When it comes to my Mexican roots I'm having the hardest time even finding information about my grandmother and her mother. It's like they don't exist on paper. Not even my grandmother's marriage to my step-grandfather shows up on marriage records. I have a feeling that I most likely won't discover any more information about my Mexican roots until I can hire someone or make my way down to Pennsylvania and Texas to see if the information I have is correct. 

Here's what's interesting...

I see that patterns in my biological family's history. I compare what I know about the past with the current events of my family and I see how they are caught up in the cycle. Then I look at my life. 

In my life I see the cycle that tried to control my life. It was there my whole life. Abandonment, alcohol, abuse in every form, depression, broken home and confusion. I lived in that mess because I didn't have a choice and the hand dealt to my family was being dealt to me at a very young age.

 Today, I see something completely different. In my life there is healing, forgiveness, hope, peace in the storms and happiness. I am so incredibly grateful to my God for all the work He has done in my life. I know that He is bringing restoration to my family line through my life. It's hard to be the one that He set aside to show His mighty love through because there are things you just gotta do. You have deny the basic human instinct of belonging to the family you were born into. You have to accept what is and learn to live in the moment instead of hoping for your biological family to open up to the Truth you've known your whole life. You have to be in control of your actions and you have to grow up. Being the one that brings life back into your family tree takes a lot work but it can be done with God by your side.

 I hope to one day have a family that is free from the generational bondage I was born into. I hope they can experience the fruit from all the sensationally difficult choices I've made in my life to break free. God has promised great things to me and while I choose to live in the moment of today and let Him control my future I know I am in a safe place. And when I'm old and gray haired and my race comes to a strong finish my family's new path will be one of my greatest accomplishments.

Breaking chains, breaking curses!

Fellowship and New Names!

What a wonderful night I was blessed with! 100 women gathered together to hear from God in solitude and then share time of fellowship. We ate food, sang worship songs, shared stories and then ate s'mores! I met some new friends and chatted with old ones that I don't get to talk to very often. And a handful of ladies even stayed by the fire until long after most people had left and we shared stories of all sorts of different things (mostly animal related though). I almost didn't go because I just wasn't "feeling it." But I am so glad that I made myself go!

Tonight we talked about the name that God has for us and the person in the Scriptures that we saw ourselves in. A few years ago it was spoken over me that I was like Abigail (1st Samuel 25) and that her name meant "Father's Joy." I have held on to that word and read her story many times. I've also seen myself in Isaiah 62 as being called Hephzibah (which means "my delight is in her"). But tonight I tried to find myself in the examples given on the paper...and I just couldn't. No matter how hard I tried, God was simply not giving me any other name.

Abigail...

Abigail was a very wise woman and her name definitely reflects the joy that is within me. However, there was something different about tonight. Tonight I was breaking the chains of a lot of words spoken over me throughout my years. Words that I thought I had gotten rid of but obviously still have a hold in my life. Things like "unwanted", "cow", "unlovable", "undesirable", and "out of place." It wasn't until others were sharing that I finally understood what God was speaking to me about Abigail in this season of my life.

She was married to a rich, powerful and evil man. For whatever reason it was she found herself in this family where she did not belong. Her husband was selfish and did not serve the soldiers of King David when they came asking for help though he had plenty to share. So, King David was ready to come back and wreak havoc upon his house. That included Abigail and the servants. So Abigail took a wise, courageous leap of faith and went to meet David with all the supplies his men had requested. Afterwards, she returned home to her husband and the Lord struck him down. After hearing of her husband's death, King David extended an offer of marriage and Abigail finally found her proper place in King's family.

You see, she was in the wrong family. She was courageous, wise and full of joy. She didn't let the fear of what her husband may do if he found out what she did stop her from acting in a godly way to honor the king and keep the peace in her home. And God honored that. He freed her from the bondage of the wrong family and placed her in a better home.

I believe that I am like Abigail in this way. I had to stand up and make a courageous decision in my family that I was in. I have to stand every day because the family I was a part of was the wrong family for me. It's no wonder I felt out of place there. God has so much more for me in the years to come. And while things happened quickly for Abigail, God has made it clear that He is taking His time with me because He has a very deliberate work He is doing in my soul. The restoration process takes time (a whole nother blog for a later time) and a gentle hand.

I know that God has already given me a Church family to belong to and for that I am ever grateful. And tonight He reminded me that my dreams of having my own family should be kept on the list and haven't gone anywhere. He's just taking His time.

I am Abigail, the Father's joy!

my sparkle can't be lost

i had quite the saddening experience tonight. it lasted less than five minutes but it almost took my sparkle away.

while enjoying dinner with one of my besties, i was sharing my plan for finishing up my degree in education and following it with time overseas with the Peace Corps. then our neighbors at the table next to us decided to chime in.

"do not become a teacher. do not waste your time unless you can't see yourself doing anything else. the pay isn't that great and its gotten horrible in the schools. it was my career and I'm retired now. I don't recommend it to anyone anymore. stay away from education. don't be a teacher."

i couldn't believe it. this stranger at the table next to me spent her time listening to our conversation (i couldn't tell you one word in their conversation) and then instilling more fear into my life and telling me not to go after a dream of mine. why would she do this? her life probably hasn't been the easiest but she also hasn't lived the life i've lived. i'm also younger than she is so the condition of education and schools and youth isn't anything new to me (it's only been a few years since i was in high school anyway). i just do not understand how someone can offer unwanted, discouraging advice to someone with a sparkle?

i have wanted to be a teacher since kindergarten and it's been the world that has kept me from that. the world broke me and if all i cared about was money i know i'm smart enough to go into some career that would earn me lots but that's not what a teacher cares about. she did make a good observation though: "teachers are born, not made." i was born to be a teacher and i have found that where and how i want to serve my God just happens to require a bachelor's degree. plus its a step forward and that's better than standing still getting left behind in life.

I'm lucky because the friend i was with helped remind me that this stranger has no place in my life and that I can do whatever I want. I figure that i know where God wants me to go and that at the end of this phase He will show me the next step. I know that the "teaching field" isn't the most ideal career to go into but its the field for me and no stranger can talk me out of it!

i want to be someone that helps children find their sparkle and keep it safe from the world and all the nay-sayers out there. God puts an individual, unique sparkle in each of us when He created us and its our job to discover what to do with that sparkle. the world will keep trying to cover it up, put it under a rock and knock it out of you, but it will never succeed. i will be a teacher and will let God show me where to take my sparkle!!! 

WORDS

April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month. To honor those affected by sexual assault (i.e. everyone) our local SAS organization took the voices of survivors and others affected by the horrible act and put them into a play. Today volunteers will put on two performances. I attended the afternoon performance and a few hours from now more people will attend the evening performance. It was definitely a powerful project and I believe more communities should do the same thing. Earlier this year while they were putting the production together, my therapist asked me to share my story for the project. I could write, I could speak, I could let share my story, I could answer the questionnaire, I could share in whatever way I wanted. So, I did and I gave it to my therapist to give to the person in charge of the play and a few weeks later I was informed that they had selected to perform my piece the way I wanted it performed...hmmm...

Listening to my words come alive in front of me made my whole stomach turn to knots. Listening to words that live in me daily make their way out for the world to hear made me want to run and hide. These words, so personal, so incredibly my own were being shared for all the people there to hear. To make it worse, there was someone recording the performance and my words were being caught on tape forever. These were MY words. Why was someone else speaking them? sharing them? letting them out? My whole body was so tight and the pain coming from the inside was about to tear through my carefully masked face. These words were my constant, personal hell. These words were being taken from me...no, worse...I gave these words away. 

I have shared my story many times. My words, my voice. I've shared facts. I can stand up and share the facts of my childhood: broken home, alcoholic/druggie father, depressed mother, angry/abusive brother, lots of bullies, sexually abusive stepfather, depression, self-harm, eating disorders, suicide...FACTS. Nothing can change these facts. I see them for what they are and I can share them with anyone who asks. I will answer any question and I will do it in a matter-of-fact way. I like to think of myself as an open book but I'm never the one to open it.

Today it was different. It was my story in a whole new way. The voice I lost all those years again was finding its way back to me. I listened to these women speak my thoughts, my questions, my wonderings, my feelings, my absolutely unguarded, atrociously disgusting, and all consuming words. The ones that tumble around in my head. The ones that come up from my gut and try to wiggle out but can never seem to make it to my lips. These are the words that were being spoken today. The ones I never share with anyone, not even my therapist of 7 years. It didn't last more then 5 minutes, if that, and yet it seemed like forever while I sat there hearing them speak my words. 

The words being spoken today were about my response to the facts and the response of the ones I loved. Today a piece of my was given a voice that I haven't heard with my ears in over 15 years. My mind's ear is tormented daily with these words but they stay inside and never find a way out. They are MINE. If I shared them with someone, how would they respond? They couldn't handle the unbearableness of these words. Heck, they can barely handle the facts. I have no idea how to give my words a voice again. I do not know if I'll ever speak what haunts my days and nights. Because the facts are only part of story.

A Week of Story Sharing

Wow, what an incredible week it has been already. Some of you may know that I've spent the last few nights sharing my story with a friend's developmental psych classes. I was nervous at first because my story is not for the lighthearted. I even attempted to write out note cards - note to self: you can't share your life on note cards. I am in awe of how well this week has gone.

During the three nights my story was pretty much the same (not like it could change). I started from birth (thankful I only have 25 years to share) and told stories of what my life was like. From an alcoholic, druggie father to the anger-filled, violent brother I lived with. I shared stories of my experiences with being the victim of intense bullying and sexual abuse. I described my struggle with eating disorders, self-harm and suicide. I shared my desire for something better and how my family responded to the sexual abuse confession and how I spent my 18th year homeless. Then, I shared with the class about my desire to get help and about how Mercy Ministries helped me get my life back and how I learned to have hope for what my life could be like. I shared with them the incredible greatness of my God and how He looked out for me during all those years because without Him, I wouldn't have a story to share. And I explained that I still struggle with life, with eating, with self-harm, with memories and abandonment of my family, but that it is so much better now than it was. And that I now have a desire to continue with my life and find out what comes next! Then, I opened it up to questions and after questions I told them I'd be up front if anyone wanted to talk or wanted to request a Mercy For book.

The first night, I had a few young women come up to me and confess that they too struggle with self-harm and sexual abuse. I gave away what books I had and took names of those who wanted some so that I could get the books and send them back with my friend the instructor. I had a lady who was just in awe when I shared that my abuser was a minister who came up and thanked me for sharing my story. She gave me the number to her church's prayer line and we exchanged info. What really touched me was a girl my age who came up to share her story with me. She showed me the scars on her arms, which she keeps hidden from the world, and basically begged to be listened to. We talked for quite a while but had to leave the room eventually. I gave her the books she wanted, we exchanged information and we parted. I will forever keep her in my heart and prayers and I really hope she continues to reach out to me for friendship and encouragement. If not, I pray that she remembers the strength she has had so far and that she learns just how precious she is.


The next night it was a small class again. I had a few people thank me for coming and sharing my story with them. Afterwards, I exchanged info with a few people, letting them know that I'm totally open if they'd like to talk with me for any reason or if they have any questions. Then I had one lady who's daughter has a friend who is in a bad place. I gave her the book I had and told her to give it to the woman. If she wants help, we can help her but until then she will continue to stay in that unhealthy relationship. I will keep this woman and those around her in my prayers for safety and courage to step away from the relationship.


Tonight, the last night, was in front of a big class. This time I had a gentleman come up and thank me for sharing my story. Then he encouraged me to keep moving on and growing. This was wonderful because he was very sincere and I knew that he cared about the women in his life. I also had a woman come up and thank me for sharing. She said that she knew how hard it was and disclosed to me that she had been raped recently. She didn't want to talk much and I asked her if she was receiving help and if she needed anything. She said she was getting help and walked away. This woman, I will carry in my heart forever for she deserves to know that she too is strong and courageous and will one day share her story.


One of the highlights of this week was that a person in the class knew me from before my time at Mercy. She came up to me and gave me a huge hug and told me how she remembered me from before and how well I hid everything that I was going through. She remembers when I disappeared (because I told NO ONE that I was leaving for Mercy, I figured people didn't care about me at all at that point) and she remembers when I came back - completely different. She encouraged me to keep going and said she was proud of me. She also confirmed that if I was to ever be ready to confront my abuser or my family that I would have many supporters on my side and they'd keep me safe. 


I was encouraged by each class during the Q & A part of the night because I was surprised by how many questions they had. I told them that if they wanted to know something all they had to do was ask and I'd answer as honestly as possible and they took me up on that. A lot of the questions were similar from class to class but it just amazed me that people really were interested in my story - like it really hit home with them and they genuinely wanted to know more about my life and about how I'm doing now and what's going on now.


I think besides the few people that came and talked with me one of the big things I'll take away from this past week is that I am called to share my story. I tend to be very composed when sharing such intimate details of my life in front of groups of people. And people are very receptive of the words I speak which I swear come from God. I'm so anxious before and then I start speaking and the realness of my life just comes out and people are paying attention and taking in the fact that my life was pretty crazy but now it's sooo different and I'm sooo different. I am more encouraged to write my story out in book form now and just share with anyone who wants to hear.


I'll probably even continuing to speaking at her classes and my counselor said a teacher she knows at another college is always looking for speakers, so I'll probably speak for her classes too. I'm an open book, all ya gotta do is ask.

I wonder who's my god

I wonder who's in control of my life. Have I really and truly allowed God to be center in my day to day living? Is He the one I'm trying to please in my big and small decisions? Or am I simply attempting to control my own destiny without a care in the world?

I am active in my home church. I volunteer in different areas, I babysit some of the children, I attend the retreats and I believe that Jesus died for my sins and that He resurrected from the dead to set me free from captivity and to reconcile me with the Father.

Yet some days I feel like I live a double life.

Eating disorders have been apart of my life for a very long time. If it's not overeating and overindulging its restricting and purging. My life has been a constant cycle through what I should and shouldn't do with food. I have gotten a lot of therapy for a lot of things but its like ED is always off limits. I rarely talk about it with anyone else, my therapist knows its a topic that we do NOT talk about and I can't stand to be around people who talk about weight and food ALL THE TIME!!!!

Today the topic in church was comparing God's Kingdom with the earthly kingdom in which we all reside. My pastor made a very good point that brought me to tears (which is hard to do when I'm working the media booth for the service because I don't always absorb everything). Have I made my stomach my god? Have I let the lies of the enemy control my life? Are the decisions of what I put into my body coming from God or from the world?

Obviously tears only come when the point being talked about is meant just for you in that moment. I have another blog that I keep, a secret diary that I started back in my darkest hours, this is the community I return to when I'm living my secret life, when I'm drinking only water and purging in public bathrooms or into a plastic bag in my car. This is the online community that encourages ED to control my life and the place that I release all the words I can't say aloud and I can't let people in my life to know. This secret online journal brings me to wonder about my double life and who's really running the show.

I wonder what would happen if I attempted to let God control the uncontrollable part of my life. I wonder about all the very real things that will be stirred up and force themselves to be felt and dealt with by releasing control and asking God to help me. I fear that I won't be able to handle it and that there is no one that really understands this world I live in.

Yet here I am, writing this all out and confessing that I the world controls this part of my life and I'm terrified of the emotions that will come with letting God take control of it. But here I sit, in His presence, with all my fear and all my doubts wondering if I'll ever break free from the chains of ED.

A Letter to The Family & Friends of Whitney Houston

To the family and friends of Whitney Houston:


First, I am deeply saddened by your loss. Losing someone you love unexpectedly at such a young age is never an easy thing to work through. You are all in my prayers and I believe that your beloved Whitney is in heaven singing her heart out.


I was inspired to write this letter to you as I was at work and overhead a few coworkers expressing how upset they were that Whitney’s death was getting so much attention. Personally, I would think you’d like to be able to mourn your beloved friend and mother privately but the cameras, the questions, the interest of so many fans, they just won’t go away. I cannot imagine what this must be like for you; after all, you are still waiting on results to know exactly what happened to Whitney.


On behalf of the human population I would like to extend a sincere apology for the judgments being passed on her. Yes, Whitney experienced addiction, pain, sadness and betrayal during her years with us, however it is not our place to express our personal biases so obscenely in the wake of such tragedy in your lives. Whitney is not the first person to have faced a hard road. We often lose sight of the raw brokenness of our fellow humans because we see them on television, in magazines, in concert or on the movie screen. We forget that those with the “celebrity” title are just like the rest of us and their journeys are just as individual as anyone else’s. No one would like to see their loved one trash talked after such tragedy has occurred in their lives.


Whitney will forever be remembered by the general public for her amazing vocals and the songs she blessed them with. For you, she will be remembered for her laugh, for her jokes, for her hugs, for her smile, for her place in your lives and hearts. You are blessed to remember a woman that many of us do not know and for that you must be grateful.


Please know that you are all in my prayers and that I and many others, some I know and some I don’t, are standing up for your right to mourn your loved one without people bringing up all the struggles she had and not letting her memory be a pleasant one. I hope that you are able to find peace in the midst of chaos as you remember the wonderful things about your friend.


Whole-heartedly,


A Girl from the Michigan