Lily’s Story

Hello! My name is Lily. I'm 20 years old and I'm deeply thankful for the chance to share a part of my journey with you. It's a story with a tough past but a bright future, from feeling different and broken to now standing firm with the knowledge that I don't fight my battles alone.

I entered this world on a small island named Cebu in the Philippines. Tragically, my father had passed away before I took my first breath, and my mother, grappling with mental illness, found herself unable to care for me. With a brother three years older, our relatives faced a difficult choice: they couldn't provide for both of us. Eventually, my grandmother made the heart-wrenching decision to bring me to a local orphanage when I was just six weeks old.

At the tender age of two, my life took an unexpected turn when I was blessed with the opportunity to be adopted by a family from Canada. While I have no recollection of the adoption process or the journey that brought me to my new home, my parents vividly recall the overwhelming sound of my cries and sobs throughout the entire airplane ride to my new family and new life.

As I journeyed through childhood, I recall waking up each morning with a profound sense of joy, truly content with the life I was living. Dance became my refuge and my passion, a source of immense fulfillment in my young life. I had a loving family, which consisted of my mom and dad and three older brothers. As the only girl I obviously was treated like a princess.

Yet, as the years passed, I couldn't help but notice the subtle differences that set me apart from my family. While I had always been aware of my physical dissimilarity, it was during my formative years that these disparities became more pronounced. Moments of feeling out of place crept in, fostering a growing sense of isolation and distance within me.

One particular incident stands out in my memory: during a family vacation, as I trailed behind my family, a stranger approached me and asked, 'Where is your family?' At that moment, I was taken aback, thinking, 'Right in front of me, isn't it obvious?' Yet, that seemingly innocent inquiry sparked a profound realization within me — I didn't quite resemble my family, and from an outsider's perspective, I didn't appear to belong.

As I thought deeper into my past, questions about my mother's identity and my brother's well-being began to consume my thoughts. A shadow of darkness gradually crept in, birthing feelings of guilt, shame, and profound loneliness. I grappled with the unfairness of my brother's circumstances, dwelling on the stark contrast between his impoverished reality and my own comfort.

In moments of anguish, I found myself crying out to God, wrestling with questions of why I was chosen and feeling unworthy of any special attention. Despite harboring a faint belief in God's plan for my life, doubts gnawed at the edges of my faith, making it harder to hold onto to.

While I suffered silently under the weight of my emotions, I couldn't bring myself to confide in my family or anyone else. Instead, I wore a mask of normalcy, pretending that everything was fine. I plastered on a smile when necessary, laughed, danced, and attended church, yet beneath the facade, I lay in bed each night, suffocating beneath the weight of an invisible burden. Desperate to cope, I sought solace in other, less healthy, mechanisms.

At my lowest point, I believed nothing could be worse. But as my unhealthy habits and coping mechanisms escalated, my parents discovered the truth. It felt like the end of the world. Shame and guilt consumed me as I faced the consequences of my actions. My parents had encouraged me to turn to God and nurture my relationship with Him, I made attempts, though admittedly, I struggled to grasp it all. It wasn't until I made the pivotal decision to attend Bible school after graduating that things began to change.

During my time there, I encountered the foundational teachings of Christianity. While familiar concepts like Jesus' birth and sacrificial death were reiterated, I realized I lacked a deep understanding of the fundamentals. Yes, Jesus died for my sins, but He also paved the way for a personal relationship with God and forgiveness of sins. It dawned on me that the shame and guilt plaguing me weren't from God or even from within myself; they were lies perpetuated by the enemy, seeking to isolate and destroy me. I recognized that by yielding to these negative thoughts, I was disregarding Jesus' sacrifice and veering off His intended path for me.

While I wish I could say my faith in God is now unshakable, and perhaps my understanding of Him has strengthened, as a fallible human, I acknowledge that I still make mistakes and may occasionally stray from His path. Yet, that's where the beauty of God's grace shines brightest—He aids us in our battles, reminding us that we need not face them alone.

One of the most remarkable blessings I received from God was the opportunity to reconnect with my biological brother through the internet. A video call led to a heartwarming reunion with him, his wife, and my beautiful niece. It's moments like these that reaffirm God's presence and love in my life.

Recently, I got a tattoo with the words 'a light in the darkness,' symbolizing my relationship with God. In every dark moment, there is a glimmer of hope, a reminder of His unwavering light.

- Lily