When God Keeps Rewriting the Story

Every relationship—grandparents, aunts, uncles—was marred by betrayal and fractured by infidelity and unfaithfulness. It was sobering.

Let’s see—my parents split when I was 8 years old. I’ll be 36 in August, so that’s 28 years I carried my questions, confusion, and quiet grief into adulthood, never expecting resolution. Instead I assumed I’d always have to settle with just half the picture. Well, God finally turned a page I didn’t even think was still being written.

I got to sit face-to-face with the other half of that story: my dad’s side. As a kid, all my focus was on the missing presence of a parent. I never thought of the circumstances my dad had to overcome just to visit me. Not only did he have to put aside the pain of his wife leaving him, but he also had to speak cordially and coordinate with her as if nothing was wrong. He had to be reminded that she left him for his best friend, a married man. He had to fly 14 hours into a city where he knew absolutely no one. He had to spend each day stuck in a hotel waiting for us to get out of school just to hang with his 2 kids, who were growing up quickly and more disinterested in him. For the first time, I understood why he retreated back to Taiwan—where his family was and where he had a steady job so he could provide for us financially. In Chinese culture, if the father provides, he is doing his duty. What a sad reality to face every time he came to visit us.

For the first time, I didn’t just see my father as a character in the backdrop of my pain—I saw him as a full human being. A man with wounds. A man with reasons. A man who made decisions through broken lenses. And instead of bitterness, what welled up in me was compassion.

This moment didn’t come from nowhere. My girl, Elissa, reminded me at women’s discipleship group this past Wednesday how I asked for prayer over this specific reconciliation with my dad 3 years ago. We prayed a few times together, but to be honest, I semi-believed God could do it on this side of heaven. I also figured it’d take 10 or 20 more years. God, in His kindness, moved sooner than we imagined. He didn’t just answer our prayers; He exceeded them. Praise Him.

Reconciliation was never just an idea. It was always a promise.

As I began to trace the roots of brokenness, I discovered something even heavier: a generational pattern of infidelity that ran deep on my mother’s side of the family. Every relationship—grandparents, aunts, uncles—was marred by betrayal and fractured by infidelity and unfaithfulness. It was sobering. But it also made the reality of what God has done in our lives even more staggering.

The chain is broken!!! This generational curse ends with us.

In my life. In my brother’s life. That old tree of generational dysfunction didn’t just fall—it was torn out at the roots. And in its place, God planted a new tree. The Tree of Life. One that grafted us back in, redeemed our stories, and bore new fruit—fruit that won’t spoil, because its source is eternal.

This is what God does.

I Am A Witness

He doesn’t just offer comfort for broken relationships—He offers resurrection. He restores what we thought was dead. He heals what was too deep to touch. He softens hearts hardened by time, pain, and silence. He brings the prodigal parent home and the abandoned child into His arms. He is the God of reconciliation—not just vertically between us and Him, but horizontally between us and one another. I know it’s easy to read this and nod your head to the truths of God’s character, but he truly did this in my life, my brother’s life, and my dad’s life last week. I am a witness. Not only did we finally get to sit down and share our depressions, the things that plague us, and pray for one another. The best part is that we had ears to hear each other. We didn’t interrupt each other or throw out passive-aggressive jabs like we used to… By “we” I mean me (Ya girl is confessing here). We gave each other the floor and each other's presence is what spoke louder than words.

Lastly and leastly, because he truly is the least. Our enemy HATES this. He despises restoration. He loathes forgiveness. He works overtime to keep families fractured, hearts cold, and healing out of reach because he knows that when reconciliation happens, he loses ground. When prayer breaks generational curses, his grip weakens. When the power of the Gospel rewrites our stories, his lies unravel. Amen and HALLELUJAH!

But guess what? He can hate it all he wants. God has already won. The story that began in pain is ending in praise. The legacy of betrayal is turning into a testimony of redemption. I think this is only the beginning? Man, oh, man. What a story you are writing, Lord.

To the one reading this:

1. What relationships in your life feel too far gone?

2. What stories have you told yourself are over?

3. Ask yourself: Could God still be writing a chapter I can’t see yet?

Reconciliation may not look like what you expect. It might take time. It might take distance. It might take a community to be praying alongside you for it. It might take deep humility, patience, and prayer but God’s heart is always for restoration and He is faithful to complete the work He begins. Your story isn’t stuck, and your healing isn’t impossible. His promise still stands: Great is his faithfulness as God makes all things new.

Talk about rejecting brokenness and rebuilding for renewal! #RejectandRebuild