I remember meeting my foster mom for the first time. She was so nice, and I believed that finally I would find the love and acceptance that always seemed to be missing in my life. She told me that I could call her Mom if I wanted to. My own mother would not allow me to call her mom; she always told me call her mother. This always seemed so cold and formal to me. The first week with this new family was so hard. I missed my sisters and was afraid of what was happening to them. I felt like I was in a dream and any day I would wake up and realize that I was back at home.
My foster home was safe, and my foster mother was a loving woman, but the only thing I allowed myself to think about was what I had lost. My father had forced me to save every bit of money I received as gifts from others over the years, and it totaled somewhere between $600 – $700 dollars. After I was placed in my foster home, I went to close my account and discovered that my parents had already closed it. When I questioned them about it, they told me that it was payment for all the pain and suffering I had caused them. At that moment I decided it wasn’t safe to save money. They also fought the courts and said that they could not afford to pay support for me. I was told by my court appointed lawyer that they said they didn’t make enough money to pay to take care of me. I decided that this meant that I wasn’t worth enough to be taken care of. These lies would plague me throughout my adult years, making it impossible to manage my money wisely, or trust God with my finances.
My foster mom was so kind to me and she worked hard to help me adjust to living in my new environment, but all I wanted was for my family to take me back and love me. My anger and belief that I was unwanted and unloved was directed at my foster family, because after all they were there. I was so miserable, but could not break away from the fear of the rejection I thought was inevitable. I believed that if I really allowed them into my heart they would only reject me, and decided I wasn’t going to allow myself to be rejected by anyone ever again. It was nearly two decades before I would allow myself to trust anyone.
I have often looked back at this time in my life and compared myself to Joseph. He was taken away from his family and sold into slavery. I was taken away from my family and placed somewhere completely new. Unlike Joseph, I chose to become angry and blame God. I have not read anything in the Bible that says Joseph expressed anger at God or his family. He always prospered in every situation that God placed him in. In fact, at the first opportunity, he went out of his way to let his family know that they were forgiven, and that God had used them to do something bigger with his life. This is incredibly humbling to me. I have often wished that I would’ve chosen to walk in love and forgiveness, instead of anger and bitterness. Recently God revealed to me that He used me and this situation to shed light on the generational curse of abuse in the family. It was broken with me. I love that God says the sins of the father will flow down into the third and fourth generation, but the blessings flow down through a thousand generations. That is a source of great comfort to me.
Have you allowed the enemy to lie to you about who you are and what your worth to God? Please share your experiences; everyone has a story to tell.
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