What our families, especially our mothers and fathesr, believe about us can have dire consequences for our lives. The Bible is true when it says that "The tongue has the power of life and death" (Proverbs 18:21). I am reminded of my first husband, whose father often told him he'd never amount to anything and that he had a remarkable power to screw up all he touched. Sadly, it turned out to be true. Today he is addicted to both drugs and alcohol. He has ruined two marriages and severely disappointed three children. Anything we hear repeatedly becomes part of us. It is the way brainwashing works. That's why it is so important to only speak words of life over our children and over other people.
Blog Assignment: All of us will be responding to the same prompt this week. It is #3 on page 568. If you are so motivated, you might read the essay that preceeds it entitled, "Only Daughter" by Sandra Cisneros. It will help direct your focus.
My Response: After my father passed away, my mother gave me a letter he sent me when I was just an infant and he was a traveling salesman. I like to take out that letter every now and then. In fact, I keep it in a cabinet where I am unlikely to misplace it. It's that special. In it, he relates how thrilled he is to have me as part of the family, how he feels blessed by God through my existence. He relates how much he is saddened by having to be on the road, and he reveals the dreams he has for my life -- dreams of success and happiness. Now, I never knew this letter existed (though maybe he read it to me when I was very young), but I always knew that there was a strong bond between us that was different than the bond between my father and my older stepsister and the one between Daddy and my younger sister. It wasn't stronger, it was just different. I know I disappointed him many times, like when I decided to become an English major instead of a business major in college. In all fairness, I did take one accounting class -- a night class in an underground building lit solely by flourescent lights. Definitely NOT for me. Give me books, give me writing, give me literary food for speculation about life and the unknown. Other times, I pleased him by my choices, like when I decided I was going to take the test to become a general contractor. I passed it the first time around, something grown men who had been in the industry all their lives were unable to do. He was as proud as a rooster in the henyard. You might see a huge dichotomy between the two; however, the consummate act of creativity lies within both fields. And that is what I am all about. I am a creator (not surprising, considering I am made in the very image of the Creator). And maybe those words, words spoken over me in the night as I slept, filled me with the life he so desperately wanted for me -- a life of happiness, a life of creation.
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