A Father's Day Post: I Am His, Not Yours

Yesterday was Father's Day. It was a hard day for me, seeing as my dad continues to choose to live in sin and abdicate his role in my life, and in my siblings' lives. I am blessed beyond measure to see God's provision in providing my adopted dad Kevin and several other spiritual fathers in my life through my brothers and Anthony. Even in the brokenness, I am blessed. 

This was written earlier last week, after my dad made some poor choices which hurt our family deeply. 

I don't even know who you are anymore, aside from the man that conceived me?

Truth be told, it is God's grace in both of our lives, yours and mine, that I do not live in the same city as you. Without miles to calm the raging storm inside, I would right now be knocking your door down. I keep going to my phone to call you, not even sure what I will say. But then I pause and remember—my  passionate and wrath-filled words will not help you. Neither would my grace and mercy if the Spirit suddenly birthed it inside of me to give. The only help for you I do not have to offer. None of us kids do. There is truly only one Helper for you, dad. I weep at the thought of life apart from Him—I weep for you, I weep for the hopelessness that I know all too well.


My flesh is exploding with more anger then I have ever experienced towards you. Part of it might be righteous, but most of it is just hurt, deep brokenness that I would never know apart from your decisions. Decisions that continue to destroy any joy I ever experienced with you. I want to  hate you for that. To swear to myself and anyone willing to listen that you will never so much as hear my voice as long as you live. But then I remember that He works all things together for the good of those who love Him, those who have been called according to His purpose. And today, it is for my good that I get to experience this brokenness, this brokenness that is a result of your sin. Praise God that not even your sin can thwart His perfect and sovereign plan for my life—whether wounded or bound up, I am His not yours. 

You have done some stupid things over the years, dad. But honestly I never thought you were capable of this. I don't know why I would limit your ability to fall short apart from Christ, but somehow I think I still believed there is just a little good in each of us, a morality perhaps, even apart from Him who called us out. But today I realize that is a lie—the enemy hates that it just came out too. For ALL have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. No one is righteous, no, not one. Not me, not you.

Sin always takes you further then you want to go, keeps you longer then you want to stay, and costs you more then you are willing to pay. 

Dad, sin has taken you further, kept you longer, and cost you more. You may not realize it yet, or you may just continue on because of it—either way, the consequence of sin is unchanging. It is death. 

Do you know how deeply your sin is wounding your kids? And now even down another generation, your sin is seeping through unto your grandchildren, cursing their names. I can tell you one thing, us kids have thrown a whole lot of grace your way over the years, but when it comes to my nieces and nephews you will find no grace from me. It stops with me—with my brothers and sister. You will not rob from our children all you have taken from us. In God's grace I beg that they will never experience the pain, that they will not bear the scars of your choices as we do. And I will fight for them—all of us will. Dad, out of love we will choose them—every time. That is not a choice I would choose to have to make, but it seems you have indeed chosen it for me—for yourself I suppose.


So though your heart is not mine to judge, you can rest assured until there is true repentance in your life, until you run the opposite direction of the sin that continues to enslave you. The result of sin is death. In making the choice to continue to live in sin, to continue living as a slave to your flesh over the Spirit, you have abdicated your role in my life, in my future children's lives as a result. Death. There is little hope in death. Little hope in being removed completely from the generations which you birthed. Little hope under the curse.

For the wage of sin is death...

There is good news, dad. I know it is all sounding pretty hopeless right now, but yes even for you there is hope, dad. There is one, one who died on a cross so that even though you deserve nothing but death, you have a choice to make. Because of the one who died on that cross, you have been offered a gift. The thing about a gift is, that no one can force you to accept it. I can mail you a gift, my intention is giving it you to keep, but you have to walk to the mailbox and chose to take it, you have to chose to open it, and even then you have to chose to accept it. Its a choice though. You can choose to mail it back to me. The choice is yours completely—I won't force you to keep the gift.


Jesus is like that too. He is not going to force you to accept the gift He has provided for you in His death on that cross.


Did you know that when you accept Him as Lord and Savior, He casts your sin as far as the east is from the west? Did you know that He remembers your transgressions no more? Did you know that there is nothing you have ever done or could ever do that His grace cannot cover? Did you know that He restores the years the locusts have stolen? Did you know that He no longer sees your sin, but He simply sees the blood of Jesus when He looks at you? Did you know that He forgives you? Yes dad, even YOU! Not just some of the things you have done, but EVERY SINGLE SIN, He forgives you. Did you know that He makes all things new—yes, dad, even you. He will make you new! Did you know that He chose you for a purpose? Did you know that He is slow to anger, abounding in love for you? Did you know that He shows compassion to those who fear Him? Did you know that He will not despise a broken and contrite heart? Did you know that He will fight for you, dad, that you only have to be still? Did you know that He already reigns in victory? Did you know that He has numbered every hair on your head? Did you know that He actually cares about you, that He loves you deeply? Dad, did you know?


It is a choice to take the gift, a choice to place your faith in it. A choice I wish I could make for you, but cannot.


...But the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. {Rom. 6:23}

Do you have any idea of this gift you have been offered?? Oh, I wish you could just get a taste, just a glimpse of His grace and mercy, of His love for you. It will mess you up, dad. Yes, I think I will start praying for you to be so messed up—for your life to continue to crumble beneath you. That way, when your feeble knees give out and you have no one standing beside you, that in that moment as you finally lift your drooping head, you will see His glory alone. It'll wreck ya, dad.


All I know to do is to grieve this loss until I can no longer. To let those close to me into the inner place, that they might speak the Spirit to life within me, when I don't have to words to utter. To not sleep  on my anger and hurt. To wake up and praise Jesus' name for allowing me to be broken. To testify to His goodness in spite of it all, in spite of how deep my wounds. To protect the next generation from the pain—however the Spirit would lead. To know Him right where I am at—to be okay in this place. To praise Him for the wounding and praise Him when He binds me up. To trust Him because nothing else makes sense. And eventually, to pray for you dad.


Thats all I know to do. Thankful that in the pain, yes even here, He is still enough. 

On The First Generation

"You shall not worship them or serve them; for I, the LORD your God, am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children, on the third and the fourth generations of those who hate Me, 6 but showing lovingkindness to thousands, to those who love Me and keep My commandments."

Ex. 20:5-6

Today I got to spend the day watching my sweet nephew. I sat and grinned from ear to ear, as he told me his ABCs, counted past 10, and spelled out his name while I wrote it in chalk. He is the brightest two year old I know, of course. He would fuss about going inside or taking his nap. I told him no fussing, but to use his words to tell me what was wrong. Though my words bursting past his fleshly tears probably didn’t feel nice in the moment, he obeyed. I pray that he knows a life that comes from obedience—that he doesn’t chose to challenge it the way I have, the way most of us first generationers do.

Recently, I have had to sift my way through some consequences of generational sin. Fear which enslaves. Lies which consume. Thoughts which plague my mind over and over again. Some consequences flooding my life as a result of decisions that were not even mine, others decisions that were. I am by no means saying a genertaional curse is a means to sin. Scripute is very clear that  the generational curse is practiced, not directly passed down; rather it must be willingly accepted.  

Num 14:18 'The LORD is slow to anger and abundant in lovingkindness, forgiving iniquity and transgression; but He will by no means clear {the guilty,}visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and the fourth }generations.

"The generational curse is on everyone who is guilty of their own sinful behavior. The curse comes in the form of natural consequences as a result of the modeled behavior from parents and society. When a son or daughter faces the building of their moral inventory on the backdrop of willful rebelling to God, their job proves difficult. There are natural consequences to the one that chooses a sinful life apart from God. The decisions that each and every Christian and non-Christian parent makes will influence the future decisions of our children and society. Many of the issues we face today as a Christians are a result of the decisions the generation ahead of us made. We all pay for our own sins in the curse."

Gal 6:7 Do not be deceived, God is not mocked; for whatever a man sows, this he will also reap.

Let’s just be real: being the first generation to be redeemed is just plain hard. Not impossible, but hard.

I was telling a friend how smart and obedient my nephew is. She reminded me that this is how the Lord intended for it to be when you have parents who take the time to teach you the ABCs…to ask you how to spell your name over and over and over until you know it by heart. Who sit at night and rock you to sleep, praying for your future spouse. Parents who discipline you because they love you so much—it’s not pleasant, but it is in this moment you are most sure of their for you. The attitudes, discipline, and Truth passed down from our parents can radically impact our lives and our childrens lives.

Today, seeing this precious boy’s joy and obedience made my battle as a first generationer all the more light. Today, I got a glimpse of the fruit seen in the generation to come, fruit that may not come apart from my labor. Fruit that is so worth the hard I am in right now. The fruit for which I will continue to labor, with JOY. Fruit that I pray my kids will know.

Today, I am both challenged and encouraged. Challenged in the areas of my life yet to be fully surrendered to obedience. Challenged in my desire to know Christ above my flesh. Challenged in walking in the newness which has been lavished upon me. Challenged in humility. Challenged in the wrestling. I refuse to pass death to my children. This is a high calling, one which I cannot yet fully understand. I will continue to wrestle the curse. To replace the tendencies of my flesh with the disciplines of the Spirit. To replace the lies with Truth. I will cling to the hope that one day out of these ashes new life is born, beauty for ashes.

Just like my brother has fought for the fruit which I now see in that precious two-year-old heart, I pray that you give me the same willingness to wake up everyday and chose to walk in the newness. To chose to make different decisions in my life which continue to break the chains handed to me over the years.

 Oh, glorious One—thank you that out of the ashes, you make us new!!! Thank you that my kids may never carry the weight and guilt of the generations previous. Thank you that my grandkids will know even less of it. Thank you for making me new.

Thank you for using a day with a precious two year old to encourage me in the battle, knowing that this fight is no longer just about me—it is about the generations to come. Fighting this battle is demanded, even when I don’t feel like it. Thank you for Jesus—the only way we are made new.

The nations will see your righteousness and all the kings your glory; you will be called by a new name that the mouth of the LORD will bestow.                                  
                                                                                -Isaiah 62:2

Dads, where are you??

We are a generation of young women crying out for our dads. The more time I spend with young girls, the angrier I become. Their stories of loneliness and insecurity, of abuse and neglect, of feeling void inside, of never learning how to do certain things, of never having discipline, of the fears they have as they approach adulthood and marriage. As these girls passionately preach to me about their desire for wealth, self-sufficiency, and a noteworthy career my heart breaks inside. Such things will not last! Will the generational curse ever stop?

They want to challenge this picture of a biblical marriage…of the roles a man and woman should play. They have grown up in a society that tells them they can be anything they want; they can have it all—they can be just as smart, powerful, respected, and renown as any man. They don’t have to sit at home with the kids all day, wash the dishes, or have dinner on the table when their husband walks through the door. They refuse to be his slave. Oh no, they can be so much more then THAT. Such tasks are so belittling. 

These young women think that submission to a man in marriage is from the olden days—no one does that anymore. Several of these girls think ‘I won’t have to submit if I am just as good as he is.’ They reason that there are two people in a marriage, so why should they have to be the ones to always sacrifice their dreams and desires for their husband? No one should have more power—we must be equal. They explain to me how they could never stay home all day with the kids—why couldn’t their husband do that? “What if I wanted to be the one to come home to dinner on the table after a hard days work,” they ponder aloud. The opportunities are endless.

Where are you dads?

I don’t know what the Lord is trying to show me; I don’t understand His timing. But every single conversation I have had with teenage girls lately consistently comes back to this underlying cry for a father, whether they realize it or not. It is so, the cry of my heart as well.

I feel as if I am beating up against brick wall, over and over. This generation of young women has made up its mind; submitting to one’s husband, sacrificing a career for a family, dying to self to love another human being like Christ, signing a covenant before the Lord that divorce is not an option—these are not priorities for them…period.

Dads where are you?

Lord, I thank you that you are the PERFECT FATHER. As I am coming to a deeper understanding of imperfections and let-downs in life, I TRUST that even when my earthly dad fails me, even when my spiritual dads let me down…that you REMAIN—the Perfect Father who will never leave or forsake me. Praise to you that I know where you are—and that you protect me like a big, strong daddy should.

Oh Lord, I praise you for the convictions you have so engrained into my heart. Thank you for strengthening me to remain steadfast in those convictions—even when opposition surrounds. I pray that you will teach me to soften my words that I may be a sweet aroma to those around me, those who may not share the same ideas about dating, marriage and motherhood—Lord use my past, use the work you are doing in my heart…may my voice be firm and steadfast, yet gentle and wise. Lord, I will not settle—I will remain faithful to the hope to which you have called me in Christ Jesus. Thank you for surrounding me with women (and their husbands) who share similar convictions and are living them out—thank you for placing women in my life to teach me and challenge me. You are ever faithful to complete the good work you began. (Phil. 1:6)

Testimony Tuesday: The Alcohol Debate

Lately, it continues to come up. In random conversation...in my thoughts…in my time on my knees. Perhaps it is my upcoming birthday into adulthood or maybe it’s just time to tackle it. Either way, it is frustrating beyond belief—and not something I ever thought would become such a burden.

Growing up, there was always alcohol around me. Both of my parents have battled alcoholism much of my life—and it is very much still a battle today. When I think about what alcohol has represented to me, nothing good ever comes to mind. In fact, some of the most painful memories of my childhood stem from consequences of this ugly addiction.

Anger. Fighting. Abuse. Neglect. Drunkenness. Partying. Sleeping around. Pornography. Fear. Forgetfulness. Numbness. Risk. Depression. Addiction. Pain. So much pain. These are what alcohol has always (and partially continues to) represent to me. I have seen the misery in both of my parents eyes—the wild eyes, the blank stare, the hopeless gaze. It is all too real, even today. I refuse to be enslaved to it—my children will not suffer the consequences of such an addiction in my life—ever.

I see this two ways. Coming from generations of alcoholics on both sides of my family, it would only make sense that it could easily consume my life as well. I know how sin works. I am surrendered to Christ—I know alcoholism is not the life I am pursuing—for that reason, is it airing on the side of legalism for me to abstain from alcohol all together? Would it cause non-believers to stumble if I stood firm in my pledge thus far to not drink at all?

There is another part of me that fears if I started, I couldn’t (or wouldn’t want) to stop. There is this thought in my head that like so many other addictions I have struggled with, my ‘all or nothing’ mindset could hinder the fruit of self-control in my life when it comes to alcohol. While this is legitimate, I don’t want to live enslaved to fear—or enslaved to the generational curse of alcoholism or the consequences of it which have already and may continue to rear their ugly head in my life, as a result of others’ decisions.  

I do not ever want my life to represent any of those words I associate with alcohol. But does that mean the curse is broken through Christ in me by abstaining from it all together or does that mean the curse is broken by the display of self-control while drinking? Do I take a firm stance in drinking nothing at all—or do I drink while refusing to go all the way to drunkenness? Am I being legalistic—or just straight up foolish? Is one worse then the other--or can I avoid both all together?

The battle wars on in my heart and mind, as I approach the day where the pain of my childhood clashes with the decisions of adulthood—oh, glorious day.

So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.

-1 Corinthians 10:31  

Testimony Tuesday: Like Mother, Like Daughter

It started out a normal school-day like any other. Pulling myself out of bed, I stumbled into the shower as my eyes slowly adjusted to the brightness of another day. I soon escaped the heat of the bathroom for the coolness of my bedroom as I quickly dried off and began to dress. It had become a chore to get dressed by this point in my life—those ever-widening curves made all of my attempts at covering myself seem useless. The clothes sprawled out across the bed began overflowing onto the floor. It seemed the tornado had touched down in my room then continued spiraling its way into the distance, the rest of the house untouched in its perfection of cleanliness. Finally, something black—yes this will have to do! Gathering my stuff, I hastily ran out of my room, flipping off the light switch as I headed for the stairs.

Well, this morning, unlike any prior, I walked down the stairs to find my stomach begin to churn. With about five steps to go, I sensed her eyes looking me up and down, up and down. I felt the disgust, disappointment, and embarrassment from fifty feet away. I cringe just thinking about how this scene continued to play out—and the way it has shaped nearly a decade of my life.  

The words to follow stung. “Courtney, if you want to go back to LA Weightloss, I’ll sign you up today. I mean are you even trying?” Silence.  

I honestly don’t think she has ever realized the hurt of her eyes and words that morning. This moment has been engrained in my heart for nearly eight years now. Every time I walk down the stairs and sense her sitting on that couch, my stomach churns as I try my best to suck in my gut, stick out my chest, and swing my purse around for additional coverage. No matter how much weight I lose, the whole stomach churning when walking down the stairs to meet her criticizing eyes never does seem to dissipate any—not when I was thirteen and not now, in my twenties. It is so stupid! Some of it probably just in my head by this point, and she is not even looking at me that way.  

It was on this day that I decided to make myself throw up my lunch for the first time. I was covinced worked for awhile too—not that it quieted the gaze of her eyes and judgment in her heart any. I wish I had never made that decision, but I didn't know any better--I was insecure, lost, and on a desperate search for love. I have felt that I never measured up to my mom’s standards my entire life—never pretty enough, skinny enough, smart enough, bold enough, funny enough, or nice enough. I have battled this one out tirelessly for nearly a decade now, yet it continues to linger in my mind most days.

God’s word agrees…I am NOT good enough…nor will I ever be in comparison to Jesus Christ. That is why today I am desperately dependent upon Him. Only by His blood am I able to renew my mind and accept the Truth in exchange for such lies, but at the time I did not understand this concept apart from Christ.

Fast forward to now--just yesterday, I was with my mom visiting my grandmother in a rehab facility (she fell and broke her hip a couple weeks ago). My grandma asked me to water the flowers we had brought to her several days prior. I hesitated. I made up a couple excuses of why I didn’t want to, praying she would forget. She may have a broken hip, but lemme just tell you her memory is still going strong! Finally, I had run out of excuses—I stood up, sucked in my gut, stood up straighter, put my chest out, and awkwardly tried to narrow my hips by putting my hands on them. Within moments of rising to my feet I felt two sets of eyes judging and critiquing my body as I moved across the room, bent down to water the flowers, and as I sat back down I looked up to see my mom, eight years later, staring me up and down—still ashamed. I guess some things may never change—and that feeling that you are being judged will never be something I enjoy.

But one thing has changed from that morning walking down those stairs to face her gaze to now—I don’t have to measure up to her standards…I don’t need her approval…I don’t have to be good enough because that is something impossible to achieve. I know that the Word of God tells me I am fearfully and wonderfully made, that I am flawless in His sight, that I am a new creation, that I am white as snow. Now I understand my position in Christ and who I am in Him.

After that afternoon in the nursing home, my mom and I were driving back home after leaving grandma’s and we were talking about her husband, Kevin, and how he was probably out to lunch or at a movie. “Well who did he go with?” I asked, interested. “No one,” she replied, “he doesn’t mind going to eat or see a movie by himself! In fact, he goes often” I laughed, completely picturing him, in all of his confidence doing just that. Of course he would! Shortly my mom broke my thoughtfulness, “Gosh, he really is crazy. I would never have the self-esteem to do that!!” I nodded my head in agreement as a grin formed across my face. Turns out the whole, “like mother, like daughter” concept is more fitting then I would ever like to admit.

Yesterday I realized that as much as my mom’s gazes, comments, and disappointments have hurt me over the years, she really doesn’t mean to hurt me—how could I ever expect her to gaze at me, curves and all, with pride and joy across her eyes when her mom never looked at her this way. How could I ever expect her to speak encouraging words about my appearance and character when she is constantly trying to change hers. How could I ever except her to be proud of me, to accept me, to tell me how much she loves me when she doesn’t know how to accept, be proud of, and love herself?

An hour later, my grandma calls to tell me that she is sorry for being such a grouch that afternoon while we were there. She went on to explain to me that her hair stylist had called and told her that she must look horrible since she had missed two appointments (since she was in the hospital.) My grandma made up every excuse to avoid going out to the dinning room to eat her meals with other elderly men and women to the point where she got angry with me for trying to encourage her to get out of her room and make some friends. Why? Well, she was convinced because of that one conversation that she looked hideous and ugly and was so embarrassed and scared of what the other women would think of her that she has now avoided leaving her room for almost two weeks.

The root of it all—insecurity…pride. Like mother, like daughter, like grand-daughter. Well it is broken here—in the precious name of Jesus Christ, my girls will not be enslaved to this generational curse of insecurity rooted in pride. I pray that my mom and grandmother could come to know the hope of life with Jesus Christ—that through Him their minds could be made new, that they would not continue to live out their lives bitter and fearful of what others think. That they may be set fear from this trap of insecurity and self-condemnation. That with knowing Christ, they may still hear the lies, but that they could be equip to fight the battle—praise God the victory is already won—even in my life! I needed this reminder today!! Oh is He ever faithful to complete the good work He began in us, until the day Christ returns.

“And you will know the Truth, and the Truth will set you free!”  -John 8:32

Breaking the Curse

Last night I got to go spend some time with my precious brother and sister-in-law and my lil nephew. I love getting to go spend time with them…it doesn’t happen often enough!! I really wasn’t expecting anything but sweet time to catch up with my sister and to play with the little man. Of course, the Lord loves to use unrepentant moments such as these to teach me.

I have learned a lot about generational curses and generational sin over the past few years. When I look at the line from which I come, there are a good handful of addictions, behaviors, and mind-sets that have been passed down for many generations. Alcoholism. Divorce. Materialism. Financial issues. Anger. Abuse. Disease. Depression. Control Issues. Perfectionism. Abandonment. These are just a few. I have spent hours upon hours boldly proclaiming the name of JESUS over these issues over the past several years. In fact, this was one of the very first concepts I learned during my time at Mercy Ministries—the importance of breaking generational patterns in the name of Jesus Christ.

As time has passed the reality of the war being waged has only amplified day after day. After spending six months in a dating relationship over this past year, I think I was even further awakened to the gravity of the war going on when it comes to these generational sins. There were several times when I was in that relationship that I found myself doing some of the things I swore I would never ever imitate from my parents relationship. Then of course, there is just the paralyzing fear that no matter how much I pray, no matter how many generational sins I triumph over by speaking the name of Jesus, that no matter how different my husband is from my dad, no matter how different I am as a mom one day, that no matter how powerful the name of Christ is to break those curses that I will still remain enslaved to some of them—that I pass these generations of baggage on down to my own precious kids one day. I honestly think that is one of my greatest fears—that I would fail as a wife, mother and believer in that way.  

But tonight, tonight the Lord gave me a precious and unmistakable glimpse into a scene only He could create. Tonight some of those fears and doubts were silenced forever. Tonight I saw the chains loosed on the floor…the prison doors wide open…the ashes forming something beautiful. Tonight I heard those millions of prayers offered up to the Heavens hovering so near. Tonight I felt the gentle hand of God himself mold my heart together a little tighter, healing the brokenness. Tonight I witnessed a miracle. Tonight, the scene that played out before me was impossible apart from the chain-breaking, infinite, sovereign, unchanging, transforming, sin-shattering name of Jesus Christ. All I know is that only by His gracious power and infinite mercies can such generational sin shatter before my very eyes.

As I stood, leaning on the countertop, I watched my brother hold my little nephew close to his chest. They sat on the couch together, Jacob finally content—all he needed was to just be in his daddy’s lap. A little while later they got up and my brother took Jacob downstairs to play. As they were walking down the stairs, my sister just started laughing as she was glancing in their direction. As I looked up to see what she was snickering about I couldn’t help but smile—and in that moment the Lord spoke ever so clearly to me that this was just a little glimpse into how HE is the perfect Father and HE will break generations of sin. Tonight, through my brother, He showed me a real-life, tangible picture of His ability to do so—like a seal, a promise, a reminder really—of His faithfulness and ability to lavish the same redemption and freedom upon my life and my family’s lives one day.

 Here was my big brother, just hours after confessing to me his own hurts and heartaches and frustration with our dad lately (as a result of generational sin), but here he was carrying his own son down the steps to go play, not even realizing that they were dressed exactly the same…work out shorts and a grey t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. His kiddo is not even two yet and he already wants to be just like his daddy. As I watch Ryan interact with his son, I don’t see the hurt he has from his relationship with our dad—I don’t see the bitterness—I don’t see the unforgiveness—I don’t see one speck of conditional love. My precious nephew already wants to be just like his daddy because my brother loves his son with the love of Christ. I know this because if he relied on himself, he could never love Jacob freely—the generational curses would continue through that inability to love like Jesus. Seeing the boys, matching outfits and all, walking downstairs to play was such a testimony to the powerful name of Jesus Christ. Through Him, the battle over generational sins has already been WON!

All I could do was laugh—laughing at the preciousness of that moment, laughing at the irony of it all, laughing in the face of the enemy, who so desperately desires to see my brother fall into the same curses as our dad. Last night I learned that sometimes you just have to laugh—God’s faithfulness is just beyond words. 

Thank you, big brother for dying to yourself—your hurts, bitterness, heartaches, wounds from the past—and allowing the love of Jesus Christ to radiate through you and your imperfections to just wholeheartedly love that precious boy who is so incredibly blessed to call you daddy. You have shown me that this is real—generational sins that have been passed down through our family for centuries ARE broken in the name of Jesus Christ, in spite of our sinfulness and our failures—He is STILL BIGGER and MORE ABLE.

He redeems and He transforms, He renews and HE restores! 

“But if they confess their iniquity and THE INIQUITY OF THEIR FATHERS, with their unfaithfulness in which they were unfaithful to Me, and that they also have walked contrary to Me … then I will remember My covenant with Jacob, and My covenant with Isaac and My covenant with Abraham I will remember …” (Leviticus 26:40, 42)