The Cycle Ends With You

I used to tell my children, "If you can survive me being your mom, then you can survive anything in life."

I wasn't trying to be funny. It was a hard truth.

I was barely present during the chaos of my first marriage, the heartbreak of divorce, the struggles of single parenting three children, and remarrying before either of us had healed. Add to that a long-term drug addiction and an undiagnosed mental illness, and it was a lot for anyone to survive. Then came the devastating death of their father, which shook us all to the core.

But now, those years are being restored.

Despite our history, my children aren't in a horrible place. They've been raised in a safe environment with growing stability. Since 2016, I've been working on my recovery, and they've had a front-row seat to my transformation. They've watched me live unfiltered, not hiding the truth or pretending everything was fine. I've walked this out in front of them with honesty and humility.

I live for legacy, not for applause. I parent my adult children and grandchildren from a place of wisdom, compassion, and a sound mind. I'm pointing them toward the path I found.

That is what legacy looks like in practice. Not a polished highlight reel. Not a monument. A mother who stopped pretending and started showing up — imperfect, honest, and present.

On August 1, 2025, our friend Daniel invited David on a chartered fishing trip off the coast of Freeport, Texas. Before long, the invitation expanded to include me and our two sons, Andrew and Aaron.

At some point that day, Aaron and I began talking about God and healing from our past hurts. Then, in what felt like a divinely orchestrated moment, the Holy Spirit met us there on the beach.

Aaron opened up and told me how, in the past, he had sought relationships with women to fill a void — a deep longing to be nurtured, but in ways that were unhealthy. As he spoke, I felt prompted to act on a gentle thought: Give him a long hug — one that lasts long enough to release healing.

I wrapped my arms around him, and he didn't pull away. In fact, he leaned in, fully embracing the moment. I looked at him, asked him to take off his sunglasses, and said softly:

The presence of God surrounded us there by the water. We hugged again and again. Tears streamed down my face as I began to prophesy over him. It was a holy, healing moment.

Since that day, things have been different. Most mornings now begin with a text from Aaron telling me he loves me and wishing me a blessed day. God is truly restoring the years the enemy tried to steal.

A few weeks later, I pulled off a surprise party for David's 60th birthday at a local country-western dance hall. My sister Sheila made a six-hour trip to celebrate with us. I hadn't seen or spoken with her much since my own 50th birthday — so her being there already felt like a gift from God.

The next day, she stopped by our home. For the first time in years, I didn't feel the old barriers between us.

We sat together on the couch, talking about our parents, their quirks, and the patterns we had begun to notice in their relationship. To my surprise, we found ourselves in agreement, not opposition.

Then came a gentle prompting in my spirit: Pray for one another.

As we stood there embracing, the presence of God filled the room. Words rose up from deep within me — I rebuked the spirit of jealousy that had shadowed our family line for generations, broke the generational curse spoken over us as children, and began to shout and rejoice that it was finished.

Sheila looked at me, eyes brimming with tears.

Her words pierced my heart, but not with pain. This time, it was release.

The very spirit that had divided us since childhood was being uprooted before our eyes.

Generations are changing because I chose to stop the madness and break the cycle of dysfunction. It takes laying down pride. It takes stillness. It takes the courage to step off the hamster wheel long enough to look in the mirror and choose something different.

Change is hard. If it weren't, more people would do it.

Hear this: The cycle ends with you.

The darkness that tried to consume you is a backdrop to the radiant light you are. There is a fullness of life waiting for you — one where your scars tell a story of triumph, and your voice speaks freedom into existence for generations to come.

My life is living proof to my children that God is redeeming our bloodline, one generation at a time.

The final bow isn't an ending — it's a revealing. God is restoring what was stripped away by shame, addiction, fear, or loss. You no longer need the masks to survive. You can stand unveiled and unashamed, radiant in His redemption.

What if the years you thought were wasted were actually the soil of your becoming?

Joel 2:25 — "I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten."

Romans 8:28 — "And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose."