The Story of Me

All of my life, I have been blessed with favor and grace. I was born on March 24th and arrived home on March 27th, and it all started with a prayer.

My Uncle Isaac, who is a pastor, lived in Porterville when I was born. In addition to keeping a church, he also worked very long days in Terra Bella. That night my uncle went out of his way after a long day of hard work and drove all the way up to Springville to see my mother and meet me for the first time, knowing that he was still going to have to drive all the way back down to Porterville when he was done. It was already after 9:00 in the evening and he could have said he was just too tired, he could have said I’m going to wait until Sunday, but he made it a priority. And for that, I am forever grateful.

Because you see, he didn’t go just to meet me; he went with the purpose of prayer. Less than seventy-two hours after I was born, I was dedicated back to the Lord on March 27th that very first night; I came home from the hospital. He dedicated me in the middle of the night, in a dark, quiet house. My mom was already laying down when he knocked softly on the bedroom door. “Don’t get up,” he said, “ I just came to pray for you and the baby.”

As he lifted me into the air, he asked the Lord to break the power of all generational sins, and curses that were passed down to me by the sins or actions of others. He prayed favor over me. My uncle prayed that I would receive Christ as my Savior at an early age and place within my heart a desire to follow the Lord all the days of my life. That night that prayer took root and still stands today.

I accepted the Lord as my personal Savior right before I turned three years old and was baptized six months after that. Before I was baptized, my pastor asked me a series of questions to see if I understood the meaning of what I was asking to do. After finding my explanation acceptable, he assured my mom I was ready.

By family accounts, they tell me I was able to quote scripture regularly, and I did it in a good context. They say I had great discussions with the purpose to share God’s word. They also say that after accepting the Lord, I told everybody and anybody about Jesus. I can’t remember any of that.

But what I do remember is being baptized. My mother and I were baptized on the same day. I remember the excitement of the day — the anticipation. I remember coming up from the water feeling renewed, so peaceful and so happy. I remember on the way home; I tried to explain the way I was feeling to my mom. I asked, “Do you feel that?”.

“Feel what?” She asked. She knew how she felt, but she wanted to see what my three-year-old self-was feeling.

“That,” I answered, “That. I don’t know, it’s inside, I think my heart is happy, but inside, I don’t know”.

“That’s unspeakable Joy,“ she whispered.

I had felt, for the first time in my life, unspeakable joy. Granted, I hadn’t lived a long life yet, but God was already working in me. That unspeakable joy, that feeling is indescribable.

The Bible says in Psalm 139: 13-14, “you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful; I know that full well.” He already knew who I was and what he called me to do.

Proverbs 16:9 says, “A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.” This is so true. My mom actually lived in San Jose, CA. She was two weeks overdue and decided on a whim to visit my grandma in Springville, CA. Low and behold it was at that time that her body decided it was ready to go to into labor. She went to the Porterville Hospital, and they said they had no room for us. They checked my mother out and said you could make it to Lindsay. That was when Lindsay had a hospital. When we got to Lindsay, they said sorry, but we’re full. Again, they checked my mother and said she had time to get to Tulare. When we arrived at the Tulare Hospital, they again said sorry, but we have no rooms, but when they checked her this time, there was no time to get to Visalia. They took us in. I was born at Tulare County General Hospital.

I think about how my mother already had a doctor in San Jose, a hospital she was registered at, and yet here I am, born in Tulare, CA. God had already known that in order for this great life, he was going to give me, prayer needed to take root. He knew it wouldn’t have happened in San Jose. He knew that my tired Uncle would obediently listen to his instructions and pray over me. I pray that I am obedient like my uncle because you never know whose life is depending on it.

When I was young, I learned undoubtedly that prayers were answered. My mom explained that sometimes, the answer is no, and sometimes, the answer is an option that you don’t want, but they are always answered. She also explained that they are answered in God’s timing, and sometimes that meant years of trusting and waiting, and sometimes it might even be after you die.

In Matthew 21:21-23 it says: So Jesus answered and said to them, “Assuredly, I say to you, if you have faith and do not doubt, you will not only do what was done to the fig tree but also if you say to this mountain, ‘Be removed and be cast into the sea,’ it will be done. And whatever things you ask in prayer, believing, you will receive.” I remember when I was around four years old, being in awe thinking I have the power to move mountains. In my four-year-old mind, I never dared talk to the mountain telling it to move because I always thought: I’m not going to be responsible for that earthquake. Childlike faith is amazing. That is something you need to hold onto when you’re praying.

I can still remember the first time my long-term prayer was answered. I had been praying for my grandmother’s salvation. She knew about the Lord but wasn’t serving him. When I talked about Jesus, she always said, “I already know. Go play,”. Of course, I obeyed, but every night I fell to my knees, and I prayed for her salvation, along with the salvation of Lionel Ritchie. I really liked him and wanted to meet him in heaven. That makes me laugh now, but I think, well the Lord needed someone to pray for him, right. Goes to show, you never know who is praying for you.

I remember I was living in San Jose with my mom when my grandma mailed us a letter. I remember my mom reading it out loud, and she shared how my grandma accepted the Lord. I remember crying because I was so happy. I never doubted that the Lord would answer that prayer, but that was the first time I had experienced a long wait and trust and saw it come to pass. I remember thinking how wonderful she must feel inside, that unspeakable joy, how blessed she would be, and how great it was to know she would be in heaven with me. It was all in God’s timing.

Growing up, everywhere I went, I found favor, all that I put my hands to, it prospered, and all of my prayers were answered. I was born to a single mother. My father didn’t even know about my existence until I was a few months old. My relationship with him was limited. In my early years, I often looked forward to visits with him, only to be left with my grandparents, because he had something else to do. I even met my older brother for the first time at my grandparents’ home. My mom tried her hardest to be sure I had relationships with his side of the family, so we visited the grandparents, she picked up cousins for playdates, but she could only do so much.

Visits with my dad were a hit and miss in my early years, and even included talking on a telephone, while looking at him through a glass window in jail. It felt like he was in jail a lot, and his mom always made sure she took us for visits. That was about the only time I knew that I was going to see him for sure unless his visiting privileges were suspended. That happened too.

I prayed faithfully every night that the Lord would help my dad change and that my parents would fall in love because I knew he was all about restoring families. My mom would just say, “That. Is Never. Going. To. Happen. But with my childlike faith, I knew it would happen; I just waited on the Lord.

I learned that when you pray for something, you have to believe it. After you pray about it, don’t talk about it unless you’re going to speak life into it. If you happen to have a thought of doubt, rebuke it, command those words to fall to the ground. We have that power. Be careful who you talk to, be sure they’re speaking life into your situation.

At age seven, they reunited and were married by the time I was eight. What I didn’t understand at a young age is that when you pray for abundant blessings, you need to prepare for hardship. Those hardships helped shape me into the person I am today. The Bible says in James 1:1-4 Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. Though yes, they ended up married, it has been a crazy life.

My father didn’t leave that old life behind so quickly, and this came as a shock to me as my calm, quiet life that I knew was over. He brought to the relationship an array of colorful language that I wasn’t allowed to repeat, unimaginable opinions, that we would never share out loud, and an alcohol problem, that created chaos, stress and hurt.

He also brought laughter. I’m talking loud, deep from the belly laughter. Long walks in the park, and sweets. Lots and lots of sweets. Before he came around, my idea of a sweet snack was organic dry oats covered in honey. I remember once when I asked him if I could have a snack, and he answered back, “Yeah, go get us a snack.” I returned with a wide-eyed smile because I had just duped my dad in letting me have a snack before noon because my mom was at work!

He looked at me and asked, “What is that? Goat food?”

I answered back with big eyes and a smile that showed all of my teeth, “Oats, have some.”

He shook his head, and we set off to the grocery store with a mission to learn what real snacks were. We bought cookies, candy, chocolate milk, everything and anything sweet. And I have been hooked ever since. You’ll never see me pass up a dessert.

My dad’s alcohol addiction created chaos. I remember lots of nights praying while I would be getting my shoes on, in the middle of the night as a sixth-grader and getting my three younger siblings, who were all under four years old, dressed and ready, just in case I needed to get us out of the house quickly and call for help. My dad becomes very obnoxious when he’s inebriated, and as a child, I was always scared it would escalate. I never saw evidence of physical abuse, but the emotional abuse is what left all of us scarred.

Those hardships helped shape me into the parent I am today. Those years I learned to pray continuously, when things were good and when things were bad. It wasn’t the last resort.

My mom and I used to go to church faithfully before my dad came into the picture. We stopped going when they began to rekindle their relationship. We moved to Porterville from San Jose, where I started attending church again, but with my grandmother. Every Sunday, I partnered with someone in prayer, explaining I was standing in the gap for my parents.

Eventually, they began attending church, my father stopped drinking, and God became the center of our home. We prayed together, we read the Bible together, and we worshiped together. Life was good. It was during this time that in my prayers, I really learned to praise and give thanks for everything big and small. If I found a penny, thank you, Lord. If we found parking, Thank you, Jesus. Remember to give God thanks and praise him in all that you do.

My father soon got a new job working very hard long twelve hour days, six days a week. Sunday was his only day to rest. He looked beat, run-down, and often defeated. He still got up on Sunday mornings to go to church. As time passed, he eventually stopped going to church, and I continued to go with my mother. Slowly my mother stopped attending, as the Sunday morning ritual of getting three toddlers ready for church on her own became impossible as toddler meltdowns came as expected every Sunday morning.

During that time, we felt like we had to attend church without spot or wrinkle, and eventually, this was the demise of our attendance. As a family, we no longer prayed together, but I saw that my mom continued to pray by herself, and often called me to pray with her. Eventually, my father began slipping into his old ways, visiting bars after payday, and then soon drinking every day. I continued to go to church with my grandma.

During this time, I learned prayer was not optional. It was essential. Ephesians 6:18 says: And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people. I learned to pray at night on my knees before bed with my mom when I was little and continued to do so until I was in fourth grade. It was in the fourth grade that I decided I needed to start praying twice a day. I would wake up at 6:30 in the morning to pray because I had to be out of the house by 7:30 am in order to get to school on time. I quickly found that I was running late because I needed more time to pray. So I learned to get ready quicker, but that still wasn’t enough time. So I got up at 6:00, then 5:30, and 5:00 and then 4:30 am.

I had journals full of prayers. I crossed off the answered prayers and moved them to my praise and thankful list with the date I saw them come to pass. It’s always wonderful to look back at the things God does in our lives. The pages assigned ranged from salvation to healing, to jobs, my childhood personal wants, nameless people I saw on the street, world problems, classmates, and teachers, family, and so on.

I actually felt like I needed to wake up earlier, but I also needed to sleep. I knew the Lord knew my heart, and he knew what I needed even before I even asked. I prayed in the mornings and evenings. My prayers became bolder, my faith became stronger, my relationship with my God was personal, and I was saturated with the Holy Spirit. It was after this that I learned to just talk to God. I talked to him on the way to school, we talked while I illegally picked pomegranates from the field on my way home, we talked about my day, the sun, everything! I soon prayed and talked with the Lord continuously at school, walking home, or even just sitting. All I could think about was talking to God.

In fifth grade, I began really studying the Bible. I selected topics and studied all that I could about those topics. I soon began to write “sermons” just in case something happened at church, like an emergency, where the pastor had to leave, and I would be ready to take over in a moment’s notice. When my family asked why I was doing that, I would quote 2 Timothy 4:2 and tell them that I had to preach and be ready in season and out of season. Of course, that’s why they had assistant pastors but don’t try telling that to my ten-year-old self. My family would just walk away and leave me to it because they always thought I was a little weird anyway.

God continued to shower me with grace and favor. I excelled in all areas. I had everything I needed and even some of what I wanted. I attended church with my grandma until I was sixteen years old when she moved back to Hawai’i. After that, I attended church without my family until I was seventeen years old. I still believed in God and was truly in love with him, but I allowed twisted truths to take root. I began a life of compromise.

I had a boyfriend who played volleyball with his family every Sunday, and he asked me to go. I told myself that since technically I was the church, that church could be wherever I went, but I did not have church at the park. As this boy invited me more and more places, it was easier and easier for me to miss church until I stopped going altogether. Despite not going to church, I continued to pray.

Of course, conviction played a big role, and I returned to church when I was 18 living in San Jose. I had to walk thirty-five minutes every Sunday for about a mile and a half and then rode the bus for another hour and a half to get to church and then did the reverse to get back home. I was once again going to church on my own without my family, but this time, I carried my growing baby in my belly.

The year I took off away from church felt like ten. I remember walking in, and I just stood still to bask in his presence. I hadn’t realized that even though I continued to pray daily, my relationship with God had been strained. We weren’t friends like we used to be, but when I walked into that church, it was so clear, I missed the fellowship and the corporate prayer. Matthew 18:20 says: For where two or three are gathered together in my name, I am there in the midst of them. There is power in corporate prayer.

When I first left for San Jose to attend college, I remember I had just bought a cell phone. That was back when hardly anyone had them, and it cost $2.10 a minute for both incoming and outgoing calls. There was no texting yet. I had a pager. You got paged and called people back at a phone booth. No plans, no rollovers, there weren’t even free nights and weekends yet. I bought the cell phone just the day before and only had time to charge it. I hadn’t programmed any numbers in it yet; I just took it with me just in case I needed to call for help since I was pregnant.

I remember it was after 10:30 pm on the East Side of San Jose. I was living with my Aunt Kathy and just got off the bus and had to walk home the rest of the way because after 9:00 pm the bus didn’t even travel past that point anymore. I was nervous as there weren’t any street lights after the bus stop and it was about a sixteen-minute walk for a regular person but with a heavy belly, and a backpack full of books, it took longer. There were lots of blind spots and places people could hide, and my home was almost a mile away from that drop-off. I assessed my surroundings and began walking briskly as soon as I got off the bus. I noticed on the right side of the street, the side I was already on, there were two men who had taken notice of me immediately and began catcalling and talking to me. On the left side of the street, there was a group of men; I think I quickly counted seven. I felt trapped. I pulled out this cell phone because I was going to pretend that I was calling for a ride. At this time you could not call 9-1-1 from a cell phone because they didn’t have the technology to connect the phone with dispatch yet.

I remember I pulled out the phone and I heard this woman praying. She said, “Lord, whoever is on the other side of this phone, I just pray a hedge of protection around them. Lord keep them and help them with whatever they need. “And then she began to speak in tongues. Every hair on my body stood at attention and tears wanted to fall but because I didn’t want to make myself appear weak in front of the guys I just kept a serious face. And then, all at once, I recognized the voice. “Auntie Jessie? “I asked. Hi Mija, is this Letty?” “Yes, it’s me.” “Oh, are you okay?” “I’m walking home.” and so she continued to pray. She prayed all the way until I got inside the house.

She asked if called to speak to my great-grandma. I said, “I didn’t call. I just picked up the phone and heard you praying, and then I recognized your voice.” She said, “I was visiting grandma when the phone rang over here, and I told I would answer it, so she didn’t have to get up. I said hello, a few times, and there was no answer. I was going to hang up, but God just told me to start praying, so I did. “ My great grandma’s phone number had never been dialed into my phone yet. No number had been dialed yet. When I got the bill next month that phone call was never recorded as incoming or outgoing. There was no charge. That’s twice I was saved because of obedience and the power of prayer. The Holy Spirit moved her to pray, and she did it.

Fast forward a few years, and I am a mother of two adorable toddlers. Favor has flowed over to my children, despite the fact that I was living in complete and utter sin. I was living with my boyfriend, and now we had two children. We moved in together right after our son’s first birthday. We lived like this for three years, all the while, God still blessed us, as individuals. We continued to bask in God’s favor while I continued to pray over my children, our apartment, finances, family, and everything in-between. But I knew that God only blesses a union between husband and wife, and that wasn’t us. I believed God’s promise that if we were married, we would be unstoppable, but until then, we were limiting ourselves. So, I finally talked that guy into marrying me. God turned my compromise into a promise.

When I was little, I remember hearing my mom praying for my future husband. Someone that Kevin didn’t even know existed was praying for him from the time he was a toddler from the other side of the country. He was born on the east coast. She prayed that he was happy and had a blessed life. She prayed that whatever life he was having that he be able to deal with the ups and downs without bringing baggage into our marriage. She prayed for God’s favor to fall on him. She prayed for wisdom, intelligence, and a gentle heart. She prayed for a God-loving, spirit-filled man.

This great man that my mother prayed for. He was kind, intelligent, wise, caring, and respectful. He was a great father to my children and the perfect mate. He was too good to be true. The catch, he wasn’t saved. He wasn’t saved, but he agreed to go to church with the children and I, as a family, because he knew it was something I valued. He said it felt good to go to church because he thought the pastor had good stories, and they were motivational. What he didn’t know is that the girl he married started a battle of praying for his salvation.

I knew the seeds were being planted in church, but my job was to pray. I would lay hands on him at night when he was asleep; I would pray quickly when I kissed him good-bye. I prayed as I made him breakfast and lunch to take to work. During this period he was on a Mountain Dew kick, so every single can of Mountain Dew I bought, I touched and prayed over. I would anoint his shoes, asking the Lord to guide him. I prayed that wherever he turns, there would be people there to minister to him. Once while we were at church and I saw a man who was worshiping boldly for God, not holding anything back. I pointed and said, “In the name of Jesus, I claim that spirit of worship for my husband.” I would pray and pray. It took a lot praying, but like everything else, it was God’s timing. Now when I see him raise his hands and worship, I remember how God is so good to keep his promises, and it wasn’t until I sat down to write this that I thought, I wonder if that’s why he ended up on the worship team.

After I had Liliana, I took some time off from working with the County and was looking for a part-time job. I started working at Payless ShoeSource. Sales had been slipping for years, and since there was a second store across the street, there was the talk of closing the store I worked in. After four months of being the store manager, the corporate office called me and invited me to a conference call. I remember I was so nervous thinking about what they wanted with me. They wanted to know what I was doing because sales had tripled, not once, not twice but every day since they named me store manager.

I hesitated and answered, “You really want to know? “. “Yeah, we do,” they replied. Sigh, “I prayed. I come in early every day,

And I touch every shoebox quickly praying that whoever touches them will be blessed. I touch every seat and ask that whoever sits down will find rest and peace that surpasses all understanding. I pray over the threshold and pray that everyone will be blessed coming in and blessed going out”. I held my breath and waited for a response. “Well, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it,” they said. And the store stayed open.

I never prayed for sales or a higher traffic count. I just prayed blessings over the people, and God took care of the rest. Prayer results always give you more than what’s expected. I prayed for my employees, and they prospered as well, and even when I had to let them go because they weren’t really good at their job, some would bring me parting gifts and thank me for pouring into their lives. I was blessed in return.

Then came the infamous car accident. The accident where the first responders said they thought we were all dead when they arrived at the scene. I’m not going to get into detail, as I shared that story, but in there I talked about prayer. I explained that right after the impact, I began to pray. I prayed for healing, peace, and recovery. I remember feeling a warmth come over me, not just my body, but the van, it was like a blanket.

Before the accident, when I used to hear sirens, I always began to pray immediately, and I still do it now. I pray for healing, and I pray for all parties involved. I pray for safety for the first responders and pray for their road to recovery. I was thankful that I always prayed like that because I learned during the accident and that season of my life, how valuable that instant prayer can be for other people. It’s your first thought, the first option.

During this season, I also learned how to pray differently. Everything about that period of time was so hard. I felt like I was climbing a mountain that just kept crumbling underneath me. I couldn’t just say, “God help me.” Even though God knows, he wants us to ask him. I had to really put my faith in him and try to recognize what was being tested and ask God for wisdom to make the right decisions or opportunities to present themselves. I learned to be specific.

This proved helpful when a few years later, I returned to the County and had a supervisor that was a little difficult. I just couldn’t pray, “Lord, help me with my job.” I didn’t just want the Lord to move her out of my unit; I needed her to be happy because I didn’t want to be responsible if she got moved and then was unhappy with her new location. I wasn’t going to pray for the Lord to remove her from the office because I surely didn’t want her fired, the Bible says an undeserved curse shall return sevenfold. I prayed for her to get a promotion. I prayed for her happiness, her home life, and her children. I knew if she were blessed, I would be blessed because she was going to be happier at work, and I was, and she has since promoted!

As an adult, I also learned that I just couldn’t pray. When you pray, you need to be willing to be part of a solution, be ready to move when God tells you to move, like my Auntie Jessie who prayed for me on the phone or my Uncle Isaac who prayed for me the night I came home. If I’m at the store and someone’s car isn’t starting, I immediately pray that it starts and that they are blessed with a reliable car. I pray that the rest of the day is good for them and then I stick around for a few minutes, and if it isn’t starting, I offer a jump. I want God to use me to help start their car if he needs me to.

Kashmir and I have actually helped a young man push a truck and trailer that stalled out by her school. I’m talking push, not sit in the driver’s seat and steer, because his elderly father was already doing that. I’m talking push a trailer that was higher than my hands can reach. A trailer that had tree limbs and leaves spilling over the top. You have to be willing to be part of the solution, no matter how impossible you may think it is. Because let me tell you, the twenty-year-old young man pushing the trailer by himself wasn’t moving it at all. And here comes this out of shape, round shape, forty-year-old mom and her little, tiny eighth-grade daughter. As individuals, we definitely couldn’t move it, but with a quick prayer, together, the three of us, we pushed it around the corner and out of the street lanes. That day God used us to help them in their situation.

While I was pregnant with each of my children and they were growing inside of me, I played music for them, I read to them, I talked to them, and I prayed over them. They each have their own talents, their own gifts, their own way of serving and their own desire to aspire to be the best self they can be. I prayed many of the same things that were prayed over me as I was young. Today I am learning how to pray for my adult children as their needs are now different, and they are beginning to experience life and make more and more decisions on their own. I pray for our family as we learn how to live in this transition from two adults, four children to four adults and two youth.

Prayers should evolve with time, just like we do, as our relationship with God is constantly growing, our needs change during different times in our lives, we need to shift the way that we pray. We need to grow in prayer and share with others what we have learned.

All of my life, I have been blessed with favor and grace. I was born on March 24th and arrived home on March 27th, and it all started with a prayer.