“I feel like I can’t come home”- I said.

“Why?”- my mom said.

“It’s because you give me a look like I did something wrong, and then you accuse me”.

I spent many days out all day until night time.

I felt like a homeless prophet.

When I went to Korea, I realize I actually really wanted to go home but I felt like a burden. I called my friend and told her.

Everyone I met in Korea felt sort of estranged, and needed to be comforted. I ministered to young people who felt orphaned and estranged, homeless. One girl wanted to go back to Eastern Europe but whenever she went home, her mother would yell at her. The pain is too real. She decided to get a one year visa to work in Korea.

So I felt like I couldn’t face the pain. God started to tell me to tell my mother the truth. The truth being…simple things like I don’t like it when you wash vegetables in the sink, without a bowl because I get really grossed out and can’t eat the food.

I used to just let things go but I realize I wasn’t being honest with her about things.

God’s been telling me to go out to eat a lot and a part of my mind will think in lack, but God would say “follow your heart”. My mom would yell at me for eating out, she’d tell me it was unhealthy and a waste of money.

For some reason I met a lot of nice strangers outside of home.

If I didn’t listen to God, I’d probably be living on my own. I lived on my own for a few years and then God told me to move back home.

When I was living alone I felt like an orphan, I was isolated and often sat drinking a beer with a microwave plate. I binge watched netflix and felt emotionally constipated. I had a boyfriend for a while but he wasn’t Christian so God eventually told me to break up with him. I felt like I was undeserving of any financial help and my mother was never the type I would tell my emotions to.

I had freedom to do whatever I wanted, but again, I had an orphan mentality.

Essentially I lived like an orphan and I felt like I had no parents. My dad had been well out of the picture and he lived in Taiwan.

But my heart was longing for home. I found comfort in God….and then God told me to move back home. For awhile my mother started giving me money and it was the first time I got money from her. I felt ashamed.

I was in my late twenties.

Then the guilt trip started coming.

“You’re almost 30, you should have a goal in life”.

“You should be ashamed of yourself”.

I mean there’s hundreds of accusations that came. Most of it was because she didn’t understand my ministry and she didn’t understand why God would tell me to rest, she wanted to see tangible results of my life.

If God didn’t tell me to get a job, I wasn’t going to get one and go outside of HIS PLANS to prove my mother wrong.

I’m a prophet who sets people free from condemnation, but here I was getting condemned by my own mother. That is why I have the anointing to break off the spirit of lack, because it’s a daily thing with me.

My goal is always to follow Jesus’ voice first and foremost, not to please my mother, or anyone else.

But she wouldn’t understand that, not right now anyway.

And a lot of people wouldn’t understand that.

The feeling of being misunderstood, accused and rejected is real though. Sure, she is a Christian, but her life is practical, pragmatic, logical.

In 2015 I moved back to my mother’s house. Then in 2018 God told me to go overseas and minister, relying on Him to provide for me. Since then I’ve helped thousands of people break free from shame and condemnation and understand their identity.

Yet, the enemy did not waiver in trying to attack me with accusations.

In late 2019 God sent me home and I thought God would allow me to move out right away, but no, He didn’t.

That’s where it started to hurt, the accusations started coming again.

No matter how much I tried to explain how I’m helping people, how I have these dreams, how I prophesy or even explain how Jesus can heal her, it’s like speaking to deaf ears.

I realize, again, a prophet is not welcome in her own home.

And that it’s not my job to convince her. And I need to be okay with that. I need to know from the bottom of my heart how much I am loved by God. But I need to be okay with the fact that she may never understand.

And it’s not my job to convince her, it’s God’s job to heal her heart.

I was eating tacos by the street when a man pushed a baby cart appeared…it was a 6 month old baby, she was so cute.

I heard God say “I want you, I’ve always wanted you and you are not unwanted. You are precious to me”.

I don’t know who you are but I want you to know that-

You are precious. You are special. You are loved by God. He died on the cross for your sins and thought of you on that day. He is your loving Father, He is your provider and protector.

“I love you so much. You are not forgotten, you are the apple of my eyes”.

I tried really hard to tell my mother how I feel, but she immediately shuts down, she doesn’t want to talk about emotions. Maybe because it hurts too much.

I don’t really know how to talk about emotions with her either, but I’m trying.

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