THE OTHER NIGHT

Generational Curses and trauma go hand in hand. We know that generational curses in the bible started with Adam and ended with Jesus.

Galatians 3:13 Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us: for it is written, cursed is everyone that hangeth on a tree:

So how does generational trauma impact relationships with Christians today? 

Can a traumatized adult please God as a Christian, if they don't have a good relationship with their parents?

The bible teaches us that in this world we will have tribulation. But Jesus has overcome the world. This directly from the Savior's mouth. 

Adults who have experienced trauma as a child growing up with a Christian background, may not know that this curse has been broken over their lives. The impact over their lives and how they raise their children could have life altering results.
 
Physical, emotional, sexual abuse, neglect, and violence, and other life events can cause post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Leaving a person's mental health and emotional well-being in a shambles.  

I believe the answer is yes. 

Here's my story:

 
 
 
 
 
  

The other night my husband and I were sitting in the yard by the fire. My mind was adrift, and I found myself staring at the night sky thinking that I didn’t have a care in the world. I decided to float with that feeling for a while, it seemed so right. A super moon nestled softly in the silhouette of the tall trees of Gillwood Forest was my muse. Canvased by a night sky full of stars. A hot stone my husband heated just right in the fire resting snuggly beneath the blanket that covered my legs.

I was thinking that my relationship with my girls was improving. My marriage is rock solid, and I can breathe. No guilt or past regrets. My children are alive and thriving in safe environments of their own making by the grace of God.

The funny thing about the mind drifting in mindless bliss, it is bound to bump into reality. As if I were playing musical chairs among the stars dancing and twirling to the gay rhythm of my heart, the music stopped! I was left standing alone, with my thoughts in a resounding silence that turned the attention of my mind to my parents. I wondered if they had finally found the same peace that I did. I love my parents dearly, but relationship with them has always been a strain for me. A tug of war battle with my heart and spirit. I survived my abusive childhood. I braved my Godless adulthood with faith in my fear and trembling. I existed as a daughter the best that I knew how as I navigated being a wife and mother from a broken religious state. I forgave them of all things done to me. I forgave myself for all self-afflictions in my trauma and somewhere along the line, I became delivered from my trauma.

Last year during the holidays, I realized that I was feeling strong. My mind was strong, and I felt for the first time in my life, that I didn’t have to hide away from the world. That I was enough just the way I showed up. I felt as though now I can face my mother and love her without conviction and the fear of running into her rejection tactics that often left me listless and depressed. I missed my mother. I missed the sound of her voice. I decided to write her a letter. Unlike the sporadic journey of all my previous letters and gifts over the span of the past silent seven years, this letter was an invitation to a new beginning. A gateway to start a conversation. A path to redemption for us both. I would forget the most important thing I wrote in that letter well after the holidays were over.

It would be early Monday morning of the last week in February that I would get the news that my niece was found dead from an apparent overdose in her apartment. This is my sister’s child on my father’s side. I couldn’t imagine what her brothers were going through. I assumed my dad was somewhere struck inconsolable with grief. I imagined my sister to be using her child’s death as a way to finally shed some light on herself. When I was finally able to reach my father, his voice was nonchalant and very off setting. He reassured me twice that he was ok, but my time and efforts would be better put to use checking on my sister.

It always came back to her. The sister who doesn’t want or need a relationship with me. Over the years at pivotal points, my father would ask me to reach out to my sister who is cross addicted and who’s 3 oldest children were raised by my father and now deceased stepmom. She’s never responded and now this. At the forefront of my mind I thought, my dad needs me to keep my sister at bay, who is without a doubt a huge thorn in everyone’s side. He didn’t need me, his daughter. He needed me to keep the family’s number one problem on a leash.

It would be three weeks before we buried my niece and, in that time, I had some enlightening conversations with God. I remembered the letter I wrote to my mother during the holidays. I wasn’t feeling sad or rejected. I was upset that my mother had not reached out. After all I was stronger now, I felt like moving forward as I had mentioned in my letter. Then it dawned on me. What if my mother had taken her forgiveness from me. What if she decided to start living her life. I remembered writing that it was ok if she didn’t want to reach out. That it was ok, not to feel obligated to be my mother. I was reminded of her childhood trauma and how I was born in grief and as a result I was a part of her life that she could have done without. In the letter I gave her permission to heal from her trauma and release me from her guilt scape with no harm done.

When God showed me my relationship with my dad, he delved a little deeper beneath the surface. He reminded me that my father had never been a constant in my life. I spent the majority of my life seeking his approval. my father was also a child when I was born and I was not a part of that plan. Add that to my mother’s issues and I am the result.

God showed me that I may have been the result of two traumatized teens who came together. But that is not why I was created. I can use my trauma as a way to let others know, their story doesn’t have to go untold or unheard, if I make the first step. That not having a validated relationship, that comes from a guilt ridden religious and worldly concept is not nor ever has been my concern.

As I pondered the things and people that give me joy, the peace of God that surpasses ALL understanding washed over me and I drifted away. But now jerked from my fantasy, I asked my husband “does it make me a bad Christian to feel completely at peace with my life and not feel bad about not having a conventional relationship with either of my parents?”

He responded by saying, it certainly makes you human. I know how much you love your parents and I know what a struggle you have been through. Your faith makes you a Christian. This pleases God. Without faith it is impossible to please Him. Keep your faith in Him. Knowing that He loves you and your parents with an Agape love and if anything needs to change about your relationship with your parents, God will let you know. So, enjoy your peace and don’t be conformed to the world’s idea of relationship. No relationship is black and white, and God has not forgotten the work He is performing in you.

I guess my thought is now, I am growing and changing in the things of the Lord. I stay focused on me and not what others may think. I am ever becoming and ever evolving into a useful tool that God can use in this world. I pray this journey continues to be fruitful. Let’s journey together and learn how to love laugh and heal.