Image shows a woman stepping out of a shadowed lineage—ancestral silhouettes fading behind them—as she walks toward divine light. Symbolizing obedience to God: scripture blooms from her heart, a radiant path guided by heavenly hands, and chains of tradition gently falling away.
Opening Scene
For much of my life, I believed honoring your parents meant obeying them no matter what. But Scripture calls us to something deeper: honoring through obedience in the Lord.
“Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right.” – Ephesians 6:1
(Note: “in the Lord” implies alignment with God’s will—not blind obedience.)
I was raised in a home fractured by addiction and intolerance. My father chased substances over his family. My mother taught me to hate by example. And yet, God intervened. Through the faithful love of my grandmother, I met Jesus in the house of the Lord.
“Even if my father and mother abandon me, the Lord will hold me close.” – Psalm 27:10
God met me where my family fell short, offering a love that never forsakes.
The Shift
My family wasn’t perfect. My father struggled with addiction. My mother raised me in the shadow of prejudice. I was taught to hate people based on their skin color—and worse, Scripture was used to justify it.
She clung to the phrase “go with your own kind” as if it were biblical doctrine. But God’s Word doesn’t affirm racism—it warns believers to walk in spiritual alignment, not cultural division.
“Do not be yoked together with unbelievers...” – 2 Corinthians 6:14
It’s about spiritual connection, not skin color. Twisting this to mean racial separation erases the heart of the Gospel.
And if “your own kind” were strictly literal, wouldn’t that imply man should go with man and woman with woman? That’s clearly not God’s design. So, no, “your own kind” isn’t about race. It’s about being equally yoked in faith so we don’t drift into doubt or compromise.
A Holy Rebellion:
Following God’s call required rejecting the legacy I inherited. I chose love over hate. Truth over silence. God’s Word became my compass, not the dysfunction I knew.
The Detour:
After my grandmother passed, when I was 17, I lost my spiritual guidepost. The pressure in my home grew heavier, especially around who I spent time with. I ran away—not just from people, but from purpose. I fell into darkness. I ran straight into the arms of abusive men who made me do things I didn't want to do. I let my identity be shaped by survival rather than divine purpose. I wasn’t walking with God. I was barely walking at all.
“All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way...” – Isaiah 53:6
The Redemption Arc:
But God wasn’t finished. He came for me in the detour. He reminded me of the seeds my grandmother planted in my childhood—the truth, the grace, the sacred calling. And slowly, painfully, beautifully, I returned to Him.
“I will restore to you the years that the locust has eaten...” – Joel 2:25
God doesn't just fix things. He redeems what was devoured.
And with that return came clarity: Honoring my parents didn’t mean becoming them. It meant choosing God—even when doing so meant breaking generational cycles.
“Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” – Romans 12:2
Living by God’s truth isn’t rebellion—it’s redemption.
Living Proof of Restoration:
Now, I live to reflect light where I was taught to carry judgment. I honor my parents—not by repeating their ways, but by choosing God’s. When people see my walk, they don’t see my family’s flaws. They see God’s restoration. And in that, my life brings honor where brokenness once lived.
My life testifies—not to the perfection of my upbringing—but to the power of God's restoration. In walking with Jesus, I honor the parents who couldn’t guide me. I reflect what they couldn’t instill.
“Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.” – Matthew 5:16
Even when your earthly story is broken, your life can shine with heavenly purpose.
Closing Invitation:
If you wrestle with what it means to “honor thy father and thy mother,” consider this: True honor flows from obedience to God. You don’t dishonor your parents by choosing righteousness. You honor them when your life becomes a testimony of grace, even if theirs never was.
“Honor your father and your mother, as the Lord your God has commanded you...” – Deuteronomy 5:16
When God commands us to honor, He invites us to do so from the place of His truth—not inherited brokenness.
Honoring your parents doesn’t mean becoming them. It means letting God transform you so radically that your life shines—even if they never did. And when scripture is twisted to justify hatred, we must be bold enough to untangle it with truth.
Honor your parents, not just by where you came from—but by who you’ve become through Him.
Journal Prompts: Walking in Honor, Rooted in Truth
1. “What does ‘honor thy parents’ mean to me today?”
Explore how your definition of honor has evolved through experiences, pain, and revelation. Are you honoring through obedience—or through transformation?
2. “What beliefs did I inherit that no longer align with God’s heart?”
Identify generational mindsets, fears, or prejudices that may have shaped you. What are you intentionally unlearning?
3. “When have I confused cultural tradition with biblical truth?”
Reflect on moments where you were taught interpretations that served people’s biases rather than God’s will. How did you discern the difference?
4. “What detours in my life revealed God’s mercy and pursuit?”
Write about your moments of drifting, rebellion, or loss—and how God showed up. Who planted seeds of faith that later bloomed?
5. “How has my life honored those who came before me, even in brokenness?”
Consider the ways your choices reflect healing—even if your parents or ancestors never lived that healing. How does your walk rewrite the narrative?
6. “What scripture has anchored me when truth felt heavy?”
List verses that have helped you unravel twisted teachings and find peace in God’s voice.
7. “How does honoring God first equip me to love others well?”
Journal through the connection between obedience to God and extending grace to those who failed you.
8. “What would I tell my younger self about God’s idea of family, honor, and legacy?”
This could turn into a letter, a prayer, or even a poetic declaration. Let your voice speak back into the places where confusion once lived.
Art Prompts: “Honor in the Hands of God” Series
1. “The Yoke I Broke”
• Create a visual representation of a belief, prejudice, or generational pattern you’ve broken free from.
• Use imagery like cracked chains, faded scripts, or a yoke split in two with light pouring through.
2. “Seeds My Grandmother Planted”
• Illustrate the spiritual seeds someone planted in your life—whether through church, prayer, or love.
• Think: a garden growing from a cracked foundation, or a child holding glowing seeds in their hands.
3. “The Detour Map”
• Design a symbolic map of your spiritual detour and return.
• Include winding roads, shadowed valleys, and a radiant path leading back to God.
• Bonus: add scripture as road signs.
4. “Misused Scripture, Reclaimed Truth”
• Visually contrast a verse that was twisted with its true meaning.
• Example: “Go with your own kind” shown as a wall, then reimagined as a bridge between believers of all backgrounds.
5. “Living Proof”
• Create a self-portrait—not of your face, but of your testimony.
• Use symbols, colors, and textures that reflect who you’ve become through God’s restoration.
6. “Letter to My Younger Self” (Visual Edition)
• Turn your letter into an art piece. You could illustrate the younger you receiving light, truth, or a divine hug.
• Or create a collage of affirmations and scripture.
7. “Honor in the Hands of God”
• Depict what it looks like to place your family legacy into God’s hands.
• Hands holding broken pieces, weaving them into gold. Or a divine hand lifting a child from generational rubble.
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