He Breaks Shackles
It was 2005, I was alive to the world but inside I was dead. I was a shell of a woman, a notch on a belt for any man that would tell me I was pretty. I coped by using drugs, but not the hard drugs at least that’s what I told myself. I needed the drug to sleep and I needed alcohol to feel, I was an emotional drunk. I had no idea that I was broken. I was numb, burnt out and I was only 23. I was living like this in front of my daughters, they were 3 and 5 at the time. I had a part time husband and I was the sole provider for the girls and myself. I had some family support but it was not what I needed, I needed a savior. I needed to be rescued. I needed to be free. I was a slave to insecurity, self hatred, and abandonment. I didn't like myself much less love myself. I didn't like anyone else either. Everyone was a problem in my life. I had a handful of friends and family that loved me, but I kept them at a distance and most days I was just too much. Drama and turmoil followed me around like a puppy, just waiting for me to feed it. There were days I just wanted to run away, but there was nowhere to go, no one to run to, and I had 2 kids, I couldn't just leave them. Then they really would end up like me and that was the last thing I wanted.
“I needed a savior. I needed to be rescued. I needed to be free.”
At 17 when I had my oldest daughter I was on a mission to give her a better life, I wanted her to become everything I was not, I wanted her to have something I never had…happiness. I was 5 years in and I had nothing, I had not changed a thing. I started out “good” but I could not sustain the “good girl” facade. At the time I was a married single mother. Life was hard and I was certain this was all that was in store for me, because people like me, who come from where I come from, stay here, we stay stuck. Stuck in generational cycles and thought patterns that keep us from hope. They taint who God is and what He can do. They diminish His goodness and His ability to set us free. I was in Egypt.
As I entered this season in my life towards the end of my 23rd year of life, my place of employment announced they were shutting down. I had 2 little girls to provide for, I had an urgency to find a new job. I put in one application at a behavioral center for teens in the small town I lived in. I got a call back the same day to set up an interview. I got the job! I was relieved. I had no idea what was in store for me. I had no idea God was on the move. There were so many nights that I would cry out no words, just tears, it was usually after a night of binge drinking and casual sex with someone I just met. I didn’t love myself so I gave myself away to whoever was interested. I had a husband that never came home because drugs was his mistress, my self worth and my expectations from men were low. I had never felt real love from a man, the only love I knew was that in a sexual setting. As I would trade partners, a part of myself would die every time. And at the same time I felt I had control, control over the men I thought I was using. That was the most damaging lie I could believe. To believe the way I used my body was actually controlling a man, the truth was it was a sacrifice to a demonic spirit and I was the offering. I was the one being used. I started the new job and I met new people, I met new men. This time it was different, I had a spiritual target on my back and I had the eye of most of the married and committed men on the unit. I had to really watch myself, I was in this lustful, adulterous atmosphere but I knew that I could not succumb to the temptation because this was my livelihood. Even though I had a demonic target on my back I was pursued by a pastor. Not in the way I was used to. This gentleman was not after my body, he was after my soul, my person and my well being. That was something I was not used to. I wasn't sure I could trust him, but he was consistent and persistent. Every week that I saw him he would invite me to his church. He embodied Matthew 4:19, “Follow me and I will make you fishers of men”. He fished me out.
It was my birthday month of 2006, I was making plans to go out and hit the club. He heard the work chatter and he said “Marcela, I thought you were on the road?” meaning the road to salvation, goodness he was so kind and I felt horrible to see the look on his face as if I had just disappointed my sitcom dad. It wasn't him, it was me. He did something no one had ever done, he was holding me accountable. I gave him a yes to go to his church and I had not fulfilled it. So I replied “it’s the last time” he politely chuckled. The pressure was coming from within me. So I went out for my birthday that weekend and on Sunday morning I went to church. I can’t remember what he preached on, I remember sitting in the pew and I was ugly crying, he made an altar call and I found myself walking up. He had oil in his hands and I remember saying I don't want to live like this anymore. On that day I accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior. He laid his hands on me and I felt the tangible love of God. It came from the top of my head to the soul of my feet, the finished work of the cross was working in me and I could feel it. I wept as the shackles broke.
“I remember saying I don’t want to live like this anymore”
Love came down for me. That day changed my life, I never looked back. The Holy Spirit was so tangible and powerful, that from one day to the next I stopped giving myself away. The journey of learning to love myself was a hard one, the power of the blood was and is so strong that His love for me created a desire in me to pursue Him. Who is this man Jesus that died for me and in His death He has so much power. The power was so strong that I was disgusted at the thought of giving myself away to a stranger. I had to know him deeper, I was not satisfied with this one encounter, I was hungry for more.
