From the Start: My story

Born in the Bronx, New York. 

My parents moved to the Bronx in 1984 to start a church, a family, and a new life. Prior to the move, they spent six years as missionaries in Guatemala. On one cold mid-November evening, right about rush hour time as a matter of matter, my mother went into labor with me. Phoned the midwives (my mom had all four children at home) and my dad (who was officiating a wedding) to hurry to the house for the delivery of her baby. A few hours later, my grandma caught my head as my dad came just in time to catch my body. Midwives' showed 5 hours too late. 

Church planting... 

That's where it began. I was born to two wonderful hippie Jesus lovers. After a few years, we moved to Staten Island to plant another church. Living on a starting churches budget was tight. A typical sunday was filled with service, service, ferry, food, service, service, food, and sometimes more food or service. My dad is the type that never meets a stranger. His heart is huge. He loves connecting different nationalities. The extra services in my typical sunday were all different Chinese, Spanish, Thai, etc... I ate pretty good authentic food though. 

I lived at church. 

The thing is I lived at church, lived with the pastor, and was treated as if I should be an angel. I didn't get it. I didn't understand God. I didn't want to. I didn't understand why bad things happened to good people. Why do some people get "saved" but not others. I had so many questions growing up. I'm sure my parents answered them if I vocalized them, but I don't remember. 

A call to go South.... 

We left the Northeast and moved to Louisiana when my grandma was diagnosed with cancer. My dad scored a job as chaplain at a jail, worked at homeless shelter, and taught high school spanish. I made new friends and settled into my new life down south. I was a very unhappy teenager that bad things seem to always happen to (if you want an in depth story email me and I will share). Events that happen where detrimental to how I viewed myself and others. 

Moving, yet again... 

In 2000, we moved yet again. This time I was furious! I left my close friends 2 hours west. Boyfriend who was way too old for me, bad habits, and ended up being angry and depressed. Little did I know that I would met some people that would change my 
perspective. 

as a Pastor's kid... 

Growing as a PK or MK, both you could say I've lived, you would think I would join the bandwagon of Christianity. But what I saw about church was nothing I wanted to be. My parents are awesome, genuine, God-venuring people. However, in ministry you see the bad, the ugly, and sometimes some good. 

I let go.. 

My mom made me go to the youth pastor's wife's bible study. I dragged my feet and folded my arms across my chest as I went. It just so happened that no one but me showed up to the bible study. Go figure, right. She insisted that we turn on some worship music and pray for Bible study that evening. I could have died. After one hour of music playing, her praying, trying to tune everything out, figure out a way to leave (no use, she was my ride), I sat on the couch and bowed my head. I started to listen to her pray. She was praying for me, although she did'nt know it. Things that happen in my life that I never even talked to anyone (at the time) she was praying. Odd, I know. I was freaked. My insides were starting to break out in war. I let them go, and I listened. 

I gave my heart 

At home that night, I knew it was time I gave my heart to God. I didn't know exactly why, but I knew it needed to be done. My depression lifted. I found some awesome friends that really helped me learn how to love God, read the Bible, and live life.