I had heard about generational curses when the language was tossed about in church, overhearing adults phone conversations and the occasional mention in broadcast shows. As a teenager when it was explained I remembering feeling such a sense of finality. Like my life was already position for me without me having a choice. However, it wasn’t only me but my entire family.
Could we really inherit a life as a “victim” because we were born into the realties of our parents and ancestors. Because she was raped, would it be inevitable for me. Can’t I escape the pattern.
I said a prayer in my bed as I lay on my side swaying my body back and forth in a rocking motion. My arms surrounded me like a watered womb, providing the comfort of home with ever rock. I ask a genuine question with honor in my heart and intention in my gut. “Can I be the one to break my families generational curse.” I knew who I was talking to even if I lie alone in a room shared with only my fears and convictions. I knew if I asked loud enough, it would be heard. I also, knew if I suggested that I could do it, I would be given a shot at trying.
If I had only known that being given a shot would also translate into being shot at. Be careful what you ask for because you just might get it….stuck to you in your face before being raped. Am I still considered a child at 14? If I am then it is okay to say, “and a child will lead them.”
Tomorrows Post: Vice Versa
Read. Post. Facebook. Tweet. Share. Return. There truly is a message behind the messenger.
This has been Sharon Saffold blogging on purpose and not by chance because chances are, I will blog again.