At the time Cinderella was written I was twenty-four hours away from meeting a family member who was struggling in heroin addiction. She called me for help because she knew I was a recovering alcoholic. My family has never been very close and I hadn't seen my niece in years; but of course I wanted to meet with her and help her in anyway I could.

It took a few weeks for us to get together due to our schedules and interestingly enough and, well ... right on time, the Lord downloaded the song, Cinderella straight into my heart. I was so excited to share the song with my niece and tell her the the Lord had given me this song for her!

We met in a café and it didn’t take long for me to recognize my late mother in the eyes of this lovely, beaten down, mess of a girl. In the song there is a line that says “generations burned lay in the dust” and there it was, staring me in the face. So she talked and I listened, drifting in and out of memories of the past. It had only been a few decades before that God had plucked me from the throws of self destruction. I could identify with her justification, pride and her convincing tone. She still had her addiction "under control", an oxy moron, satan's grip.

 

Marissa spoke quite a bit of my mother, who died when she was very young. How could she have known that my mom was but another Cinderella, caught up in her addiction, walking blindly through the spiritual battle for her soul? I continued to hear the lyric of Cinderella in my head while we talked. “Keep it clean, the needle’s dirty, the façade, the scene, so not pretty … he’s breathing death, steady, knocking, holding down, lying and mocking.” 

 This young woman was caught up by the devil's schemes and I knew God was in pursuit of her, He made that clear by downloading the Cinderella song 12 hours before we met. And isn't that why I was there, to tell her about the song and how much God loves her? Didn't God have me there to deliver His message through the song? I knew this was true but all of the sudden I found myself hesitant. I didn’t want her to think I was using her trial filled life to “hook” her into “religion”. Truthfully, too, I was afraid of rejection, I was afraid … thank God the Holy Spirit quickly rushed in and took over ... I took the piece of paper with the lyric's of Cinderella scratched across it and began to speak the freshly written song into her hardened heart. I let the song do the talking. 

She wept, and I cried too. 

I would like to give you a “fairy tale” ending but this "ain’t no fairy tale." This is a true story of the disease of heroine addiction, alcoholism, broken family systems and generational breakdown. I don't know where Marissa is today, I pray that she is clean sober and seeking Jesus Christ. As I write this story, I know it is more about me. It's about the fear of telling a suffering person about Jesus and His saving grace. It's about not having the confidence or thinking that I need to know the Bible better and on and on, with excuse after excuse. But, noticed how the Holy Spirit broke in and sent me a song, He used me in my gifts and unquestionably, looking back at the events, accompanied me every step of the way.

Does this have you thinking? Are you afraid to share the hope of Jesus Christ today? Do you sometimes ignore the Holy Spirit's prompting to share His grace with someone or ask if they want prayer? Don't worry, just pray and God will always be there for you ... on time, poignant, perfect, clear and powerful.

Do you know a Cinderella? Send her the song, give her this story. Pray for her. Reach out to her with the hope of Jesus Christ's saving grace.  

Love, L 

Oh Cinderella by lgs

 

Little sister when you coming home?

You’re looking tired, you look alone.

Your hiding place is hard and mean

so you scramble back to that ugly scene.

Generations burn in the dust.

So sin un-turned how could you have ever

trusted those empty eyes up in your face?

And your wanting heart falls out of place.

 

Oh Cinderella, clean the attic girl, clean the cellar.

Oh Cinderella, you were not meant to be

The girl you think you see.

 

This ain’t no fairy tale, not when you were small.

The love was weak, the order’s tall

And your momma sees not much at all!

 

Babies having babies now,

you loved him and took a vow.

No man could ever shine his light,

so you lay alone night after night

 

Keep it clean, the needles dirty,

the façade the scene, so not pretty

He’s breathing death, steady knocking,

holding down, lying and mocking.

 

Girl your love light’s dim,

but that does not matter to Him

When you coming home little sister?

When you coming home Cinderella?

When you coming home Sweet Marissa?

 

Dance, dance little sister,

dance around His tree of life.

When you coming home?

He is your Father, He wants to make it right.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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