Set me Free. Take Me Home

I've never been one for being a slave. I mean, who really wants to be enslaved. No freedom to come and go as you please. No liberty to act in your best interest. Then, there are the chains, the whippings, and the beatings. The degradation, abuse, and violation. The brainwashing and the raping. The separation and the assimilation. And, one that is enslaved endures these heinous acts just to survive. And, it's beyond a struggle. Struggle seems too light a word to describe the ultimate war against slavery. The soul yearns for freedom. It cries and groans deeply unto God to be released from bondage. No longer willing to be held down and held back. It's destiny is calling out. Generations unseen sing a song that has yet to be uttered in this realm. The words are faint, but the soul knows it's rhythm. Creation waits expectantly for the oppressed to run free. The depths of the earth wail within and without for determination to give way to the compulsory action. Ignore the mind that has been altered and bent to submit to forceful decimation of individuality, and answer diligently to the heart that has been birthed of the Creator's purpose for each life dwelling this plane. No, I've never been one for slavery in any form. For in any form, physical, mental, emotional, financial, or spiritual, slavery will confine the entire person. Even today people wear chains that we don't see with the naked eye. Read this with understanding. The act of adoption was a form of slavery to me. Money exchanged. Name changed. Origins and heritage lost. Displaced from my tribe, and expected to assimilate and imitate. Secrets. The inner turmoil is metaphorical, and yet it was tangibly real. Don't get it twisted. I am thankful for my family. But, there is real pain that is mixed into the adoption scenario. The soulful rise of determination from within my heart in order to begin my search was like a maidservant plotting her freedom. I was looking to find "home". I was looking to find me...