You Shall Live
I was raised by a survivor. By a woman that never accepts defeat as an option. A woman with the strength of a lion. A woman with a presence that is felt in any room she steps foot in. She has a type of presence where you know you have to respect her. I witnessed her go to war and take blow after blow, but she never stayed down. Just as fast as they knocked her down, she patched herself up even faster and continued to fight. She’d been on her own since the age of 17. Life never gave her anything, she went out and got everything she wanted. If you knew her story, you would understand why she always chose survival. My mother possesses a resilience, that you don’t come by too often in a lifetime.
Naturally, as I got older, I inherited her gene of survival. As a child, I experienced some tough times, but I took pride in knowing that no matter what, my mom taught me how to survive, so whatever I was facing wouldn’t be able to keep me down. On the flip side, my relationship with my mother suffered, because while she was fighting to keep our family moving ahead, she lacked in the social and emotional department. As you can imagine, I too began to struggle with my social and emotional health.
I continued to hold on to the survival mindset, until graduating college. I moved out on my own to another state 2 months after graduating. It wasn’t until I was in the position to live, that I realized I didn’t know how to. My whole life I conditioned myself to believe there was no time to stop and celebrate the good because I had to be ready for the bad. And when the bad came, I never gave myself time to heal and recover because I believed there was no time, I had to be up and ready for the next battle. I didn’t know how to receive my new degree, my new apartment, my new car, or my new job with joy. I accepted each of these amazing moments with guilt on one shoulder, a poverty mindset on the other, and unworthiness all over. I was literally in the best possible position a 21-year-old could be in, but I battled spirits of depression, suicide, and shame. Yet in that dark hour, God met me and deemed me worthy.
My healing journey began the moment I had a true encounter with God. I was raised in the church, I sang in the Gospel Choir in college, I prayed and considered myself a believer. But it wasn’t until I had this encounter that I began to understand who He is and who I am to Him. He exposed to me how hurt and broken I truly was. That being a survivor meant nothing without Him in the midst. Over time, God showed me how many bandaids I had all over my body. He began to peel them back one at a time exposing these deep, bloody, infection filled wounds that needed air, treatment, love, and care. He explained that my bandages were only temporary solutions and that if I continue to lean on my own understanding that is all I will ever have… temporary solutions. Then He took His time and cared for each wound one by one, allowing them as much time as they needed to completely heal from the inside out. No signs of blood, or infection left behind only a scar. One day I decided to ask God, why couldn’t He remove the scar. His response still gives me chills to this very moment. He told me that being delivered from something doesn’t mean you’ll forget what happened, or it won’t try to come back into your memory. So because of that, when the attacks form, you have a scar that you can look at in remembrance of Me. To remind you, that you have been healed from that thing, that you’ve been redeemed, and that I have delivered you. What a mighty God! He’s still peeling back bandaids to this day.
My healing journey has been supernatural. I’ve had my share of highs and lows, yet God’s grace has been sufficient, His love has known no boundary, and His mercy continues to endure forever. God has even helped me guide my mother and family to a place where they are now aware of the survival lifestyle we all had. All praise to the Father, they are too on their own healing journey’s and learning to live and lean on God like never before.
For the first time in a long time, I’m witnessing myself living. I’m healing more and more each day, and I can only thank God. If I could speak to anyone who can relate to my story in any capacity and is looking for a way out, I would say chase after God with all you have. You matter to Him. Your wounds matter, your feelings matter, your past matters, your present matters, and your future matters. You are capable of healing. Don’t settle with surviving, go out there and LIVE!
