The sound of a key at the door would send chills down my spine as it meant my father was back home and all fun and laughter would come to an abrupt halt.

My father was abusive towards my mum – physically and emotionally. He was the centre of conflict with people around him – his own family, relatives, colleagues, neighbours and strangers he met (taxi drivers, servers).

Because of the kind of person my father was, my mum, brother and I lived in fear, not knowing when my father would become angry or turn violent towards my mum.

We were also shunned by families, friends, neighbours as a result.

Whenever my brother or I fell ill (which was quite often when were were little), my father would blame my mother. Many times, my mum had to wake us quietly in the middle of the night to feed us medication.

The Christmas tree

As a young kid, my only place of solace was my grandparents’ home (which was a few floors above my house) where I could temporarily forget the troubles at home and be free and happy playing with my cousins. Even then, I knew that it would be short-lived because my father would summon me home any time and I would be back to the house of horror.

My mother put up with unimaginable abuse but one day, she decided that she’d had enough. She attempted to take my father’s life. I was very young then but witnessed the act and went into shock. Much of what happened thereafter became fuzzy.

It was God’s grace and mercy that my father survived after many months in the hospital, with his life hanging by the thread at many junctures, and that my mother did not go to jail for the attempted murder.

One would have thought that things would change after the tragic incident but they didn’t. My father, who had  promised to start life on a new slate with the family, was back to his old ways.

Meantime, my brother and I grew into teenagers, then into young adults, in the dysfunctional home.

My mother remained our comfort and heroine. I was very close to her and had unknowingly taken on much of her pain and hurt. In fact, my brother and I would get into physical fights with my father when we were older and stronger, in our efforts to protect my mother.

Whenever my father got angry, he would either beat my mum up, or throw things in the house and at us. We lived in constant fear.

I remember one Christmas season eons ago when I was less than 10 years old, my mum and I went out and shopped for a small Christmas tree. It was my first Christmas tree and I spent a lot of time and effort decorating it with lights and ornaments.

After my father came home and realised that we had gone out, he went into a rage and threw the tree into the rubbish chute. I sobbed uncontrollably and cried myself to sleep for a couple of nights. I had forgotten about the incident until my brother reminded me of it a few years ago.

I grew up feeling very insecure and emotionally suppressed. That affected my self-esteem, confidence, and academic performance. It also shaped my perception of men and relationships; I was determined to find someone who was nothing like my father.

Orphan spirit

The year before I turned 40, my husband came to me one day and said: “While praying for you, I sense God wants to give you a new name, a new identity and destiny.”

I gave him an incredulous “Are you serious?” look. He asked that we pray and bring the matter before God.

A few months later, God surfaced to us the issue of a fatherless and orphan spirit in the church and in our lives. While praying together one day, my husband asked me to address God as “Daddy” as our kids call him. I tried to utter the word but I just couldn’t. After struggling for about 45 mins, I finally called God “daddy”.

It was the breakthrough that I had longed for. The fatherless and orphan spirit in me was broken. That was my turning point. 

You see, after my mother passed away, I had felt like an orphan. Cognitively I knew I was loved by my Heavenly Father but I had not come to fully appreciate God as my Protector and Provider, one whom I could trust completely.

Thus began my journey of healing and wholeness after 40 years in the wilderness.

I legally changed my name and also took on my husband’s surname the year I turned 40 to signify that I was under a new authority and leader and, more importantly, a Godly one. The change of one’s name is significant throughout the Bible. It represents a shift in one’s identity and destiny.

Little did we know that the name change was not just meant for me, but for us as a family. A few months later, my husband was appointed to be senior pastor of the church we were posted to. We needed a new faith and assurance that could only come from God to embrace the new call and role as a family.

Forgiven

The Lord gave me a word from Isaiah 43:18-19 to confirm the change of my new identity in Christ:

“Forget the former things;
    do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing!
    Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
    and streams in the wasteland.”

Over the years, I have learnt (with God’s help and through many mistakes) how to love my family of origin without being sucked into their outlook in life, values, attitudes, behaviours. How to be a part of the family and yet separate and draw healthy boundaries.

With the help of God renewing my mind on who I am and to whom I belong, the last two decades have been a journey of unlearning unhealthy thought patterns, attitudes and behaviours, allowing my mind to be renewed by the Holy Spirit and acquiring healthy problem-solving skills.

There were a lot of tears, fights and despair along the way but with the help of the Holy Spirit and the security of a loving family, I’ve slowly found healing and restoration in the Lord.

Coming back to my Christmas tree story: Last month when I was out with my husband and kids, shopping for ornaments for our Christmas tree, I saw some small trees and recounted to my children about the incident many moons ago.

It didn’t affect me the way it used to and it occurred to me that the scars in our life may be there but they don’t define us nor do they have a hold on us. They are reminders of the battles we’ve been through and how God has been so good and faithful in the way He has walked with us in our times of need. Only God can turn something broken into something beautifully new and precious.

I have since forgiven my father.

New identity

God has also enabled me to reach others in pain from childhood trauma. Ultimately the story I’m sharing is God’s story: I’ve been saved and redeemed to tell of our loving Papa’s unwavering and unconditional love for you, me … us.

He can reach the deepest recesses of our hearts and do a work of transformation and healing, no matter how “damaged” or dysfunctional our family or childhood may have been.

The devil comes to steal, rob and destroy but God, our loving and gracious Papa can redeem and restore what the devil has stolen, robbed or destroyed. Joel 2:25-27 reads:

“I will restore to you the years
    that the swarming locust has eaten,
the hopper, the destroyer, and the cutter,
    my great army, which I sent among you.

“You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied,
    and praise the name of the Lord your God,
    who has dealt wondrously with you.
And my people shall never again be put to shame.
You shall know that I am in the midst of Israel,
    and that I am the Lord your God and there is none else.
And my people shall never again be put to shame.

My wilderness in the desert for 40 years was not wasted but is meant to be looked back upon and for me to be reminded of the faithfulness of my good and loving Heavenly Father. It is also that I might be a channel of His hope and healing to others.

I feel the storm had passed and dark clouds lifted. I have finally seen light at the end of the long, dark and scary tunnel.

Since the breakthrough, God has opened up ministry opportunities and used me to reach other women with deep emotional hurts.

But you see, more than that, God has been affirming who I am and whose I am.

To my Heavenly Daddy, I am His cherished, beloved and redeemed child and He will always be my good Father who protects and provides for me, exceedingly and abundantly more than I can ask or imagine.