Is God Really There?
I ask myself, and wonder??? Is it wrong to question GOD? Is there really even a God?
There was a time when I removed myself from religion and lived without moral nor values. I had no way of feeling hurt or emotionally attached to anyone. Everything that has happened to me, I credit to my mother and her "Generational Curse."
As a child I always believed I would end up like my mother because of the similarities. For one, my mother had one sister who died at the age of twelve and two brothers, one an alcoholic who was brain damaged by the negative effects of alcohol, and another who was in and out of prison his whole life, but never out long enough to establish a real relationship with us.
When my mom was only 12, her mother and father were killed in a car crash on the freeway one night coming home from a New year’s party. My Grandmother and Grandfather (who was driving), whom I never had the pleasure of meeting, were intoxicated and crashed head long into the divider on the freeway that separates the cars going opposite directions.
Not long after, my mother’s sister died of a seizure when she was 12. My mom was raised by her Aunt and was treated like a stepchild. My mom never belonged and I swear that is a similar story to my life. My mom never felt loved and neither did I. She turned to heroin and you know the rest.
At 8 years old my sister and I were awakened, by our delusional, brain-damaged uncle at 4am in the morning screaming "She's Dead!" over and over... until me and my second older sis came downstairs to see what was going on, and found my mom unresponsive on the floor. We had no phone in our home, so there we were 8 and 10 year's old running down the snow covered streets on the eastside of Detroit,MI. In our p.j.s banging on neighbors doors to see who would open up and call the E.M.S for us?
That night all was history...my mom died and the few weeks that drew on from there was a drab and very disturbing turn in events for my siblings and I. We were put into foster care and split up never to regain any unity again in the years to come! I was forced by foster parents of mine into going to church every Sunday or biblical holiday, no exceptions! Forced to read the bible everyday and learn whole scriptures like Psalms 91 and Ephesians 6:9, those are scriptures that will be forever burned into my subconscious. It was either learn the scriptures or don't watch TV. or participate in the "Saturday night Pizza Extravaganza" where we would all go into my foster moms room, order 4 large pizzas, and watch movies and eat until everyone was exhausted.
So if the scriptures were not learned by Saturday, you couldn’t participate in the festivities! Mind you this was coming from my religious fanatic foster parent, who believed in anointing your head with blessed oil, before leaving out of the door to go anywhere, particularly school.
Tales and videos of the occult, demons, and weird punishments by her son, which held beatings and sexual abuse of the girl's, as well as the boy's. But strangely enough I didn't turn from God, but instead when I grew up, turned away from the church.
I was always hopeful as a kid, which is why I'm so negative as an adult today. When I was placed into foster care by my well-to-do cousins; the bastards, I was always hopeful and prayerful that God would put it on my older cousin heart to take me. She would always say that she would and for years, I held on to that notion that she would come and get me.
She never did, I went thru a lot of depression and hurt because of it. In the years to come, when I had aged out the normal age where fostering parents were only looking to adopt infants or toddlers, certainly none over the age of 12. I would always hope to find a nice woman to adopt me, I tried anyone I could find.
I prayed and cried those four years that I resided in group homes and girls only homes. I prayed and cried and fasted! God never heard me and even as an adult with the dilemmas and emotional issues I suffer from, I pray for strength and peace!
I have had almost 2 nervous break-downs, where I have cried for hours uncontrollably and my bf had to call off of work and pray with my sis on the phone. He had a emotional break-thru. He cried and stretched his hand to the ceiling and begged God to release whatever was binding me, and that day I felt something lifted. Then it's back again, the hopeless feelings, the chest pains, the feeling that I can't breathe, the weight on my body and on my shoulder’s it's all TOO much!
I'm still fasting and praying everyday for the same thing I was praying for as a little girl at the tender age of 8 "PEACE" and "Stability." Only this time I am wondering if it’s just me or is it falling upon deaf ears?
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