You probably have felt the repercussions of what your grandparent did to your mom or dad. You probably have watched your parent walk through intense healing, resiliency, counseling, tears, heartache, joy, success and new beginnings. You probably know the sickening stories first hand of what abuse is like. You probably have lived with some of the very real consequences of the neglect your parent walked through.

Words like birth parents, foster homes, juvenile detention, forms of abuse, and horrible holidays are familiar in the home as our parents have reflected on their childhood.

But, you yourself are not a product of that abuse. This is because our parents decided to do something different. They decided to be a parent who loves, gives devoted time and attention, and selflessly take on the most crucial, necessary calling of all – parenthood.

Listen. I recently read a story I think you should read. Regina Calcaterra wrote a book entitled Etched in Sand about her personal journey of being a child of abuse. My mom recommended I read the book, and as I did I was deeply moved. I couldn’t help but ask myself over and over again, is this similar to what my mom endured? Come to find out, it was.

I do not know what your parent had to endure, but I can imagine they’re similar scenarios as my own mother. My mom has a story that began with a toxic tale of what some claim as love but in reality was abuse. The oldest of five children, my mom had to figure out how to help a home where neglect was prominent, and when attention was given, she had to endure physical, emotional and verbal abuse. Then, in a noble attempt to protect, she was moved from foster home to foster home. Some of these homes were filled with loving families—some filled with the same type of abuse.It wasn’t until eight grade did my mom find refuge in a family who showed her where she could find true safety and freedom—in someone named Jesus.

As I’m sure you know, my mom’s road to recovery was not over when she found a safe home in the eighth grade. Anger, bitterness, deep hurt, unbearable pain, the questioning of life itself paired alongside confusion, continued to try and reign in my mom’s life. But, resiliency and love won.

Growing up with my mom was by no means easy, but it also was not what it could have been if my mom would have chosen to live like her mom. Instead, my mom made a choice to be different from her birth mother. She decided to love her children like she was made to do. She decided to get the help that she needed (in her case it was medicine and counseling), and she decided to fight the fight necessary to fight.

You know what I’m talking about. Are you as thankful as I am that our parents decided to do things differently than their birth parents? I know I am. I’m thankful that I got to live in close quarters with a survivor, a fighter, an overcomer.

We’ve learned a lot as children of a parent who chose to break a cycle—who chose to get help when it was needed—have we not? I’ve learned to forgive, to stop holding on to hurt, that loving is a choice, and that Jesus is at the root of all transformation.

Is my mom perfect? No. But, she is human with a heart that has been transformed by redemption.

Regina Calcaterra inspired me as I read the words of her story of hope. She said, “No accomplishment has taken place without trial, and no growth could have occurred without unwavering love. This is the story of how it took a community to raise a child . . . and how that child used her future to give hope back.”

Wow. Those last words are so powerful. And I think we need to remember them as the children who we are. We have a unique opportunity to very purposefully use our parent’s stories to give hope back to others around us.

My sister is in the thick of witnessing the abuse that runs rampant in the home of America. Studying to receive her Master’s in social work, make no mistake that the abuse isn’t over. According to FosterClub.com, 1 in 184 children in the US are currently in the foster care system—and these are just the children who have been fortunate enough to escape the abuse and neglect. The degradation of family is prominent, and honestly, sometimes I feel hopeless.

But my mom offers one story of hope. And so does yours. Which means we offer a story of hope. We get to continue the cycle of stopping a home that carries abuse. We get to very conscientiously decide to do something different.

To my friend who knows of what I speak of, let us be empowered to do what is different. Let us share our stories to give hope back.