I’ ve always believed this very same lie.
Her lie was my lie too.
When Kate spoke those words that echoed my lie, it hit something deep inside and revealed itself to me. I saw it for what it was: a pattern. Not just in our family, but in all of us. And they remain until someone calls them what they are and refuses to let them speak anymore.
The lie pattern repeats until we learn to break it. And breaking it requires a deliberate strategy, a way to fight back that’ s both practical and powerful.
That moment of frustration, hearing Kate speak those words, was also my moment of clarity. Not everything that repeats is inevitable. The Dark Kingdom wants us to think the opposite— that it is inevitable. But I say some things are just waiting for us to break them.
And listen, when you break the lie, it doesn’ t mean the pain you experienced because of it never existed. Processing that pain takes time. But it does mean naming your lie, refusing to let it sit on the throne of your identity, and stepping into a new reality— a new kingdom where truth gets the final word.
My lie doesn’ t own me anymore. In recent years I’ ve experienced freedom and deep, resolute growth. But I want to be honest and say that it does still rear its ugly head now and again. There was the time, for instance, when I found myself in tears about a situation only to have my counselor say,“ Jennie, this is your old, cruel friend having its way again.”
I remember feeling disillusioned because there it was— again.
Hadn’ t I killed that thing? Hadn’ t I gone to war and won, at least to the point where I would spot it if it had the nerve to come back?
And they do come back, every now and then, when the stress piles on and the expectations of life soar and you can’ t get your breath. That’ s when the enemy strikes.
That day in the airport, when the same dang lie got to my beautiful daughter, I was furious. It stirred all kinds of questions and doubts. I wondered if lies replicate like a genetic code that carries across generations. Do these thought patterns transfer to those we love most? Had the lie I had battled somehow encoded itself in Kate’ s life through the invisible scaffolding of our family’ s story?
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