Overcoming Family Sin Patterns

My grandmother on my father’s side repeats the same story every time I visit her. The story of the cultural revolution that threw her wealthy family into chaos resulted in her family’s escape to the south of the country during the 50s. Our family’s pride is resiliency and adaptation. She gave birth to several children while dodging bullets and bombings along the escape route. On my mom’s side, her mother was a woman with few words. She spoke softly and carefully as the grandchildren held their breaths to listen because she would never repeat herself. Her husband died when my mom was 4 years old; she alone raised 3 children yet became one of the most successful rice and cement distributors in her city for the government during the war.

The children learned to figure things out independently and never complained — except for the youngest one, born in the States. We were raised to be resilient, assimilate quickly, and never reveal our inner thoughts. We learned to distance our thoughts from our actions to survive the oppressive regime.

The author wrote, “Self-awareness is the gateway to freedom; it does not guarantee freedom” (p. 100) profoundly reflects my childhood experience. That inner sanctum separated pristine silence from the savage reality and built a wall between my “true” self and my extrinsic existence. I disconnected myself from the world around me and found solace in silence. I was proud and arrogant; I neither feared man nor God (Prov 8:13; 6:16-19). When the author’s inability to express anger perfectly describes my usual reaction, “When I got upset with Jen, I would never say anything, or yell at her, or demean her, or belittle her. I just became silent” (p. 104). While Reimer could not admit he was angry, I was simply ambivalent and indifferent. I cared for no one and could never commiserate with anyone. My outward smiles and sometimes sympathetic words have wholly disconnected from any compassion.

Because I was addicted to impassivity, as the author pointed out, I was “focused on self-gratification” (p. 110). Spiritual discipline was the path I took to counter the attraction of quiet solitude. Scriptural memorization and meditation helped me to break from the silence deep within. “It is the spirit that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing: the words that I speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life” (John 6:63). The word of the Lord confronted my hubris and ignorance. I thought that my silence was peace, but it was emptiness and vanity. Life was external to me; I found it in the Lord’s words. Peter had my answer, “Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life” (John 6:68). As I continued to displace my thoughts with the verses in the scriptures, the Lord reshaped my mind and filled me with peace. “If there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things…and the God of peace shall be with you” (Phil 4:8-9). Practicing to be in God’s presence through quiet meditation and recalling His word continues to draw me closer to the Lord and grants me true peace.