"Unliked But Chosen – The Daughter’s Voice" Series Vol. 2

A Reflection on Rejection, Restoration, and Legacy

Oh, how my mother loved. Her heart overflowed with the fruits of compassion, patience, and kindness. She loved my father deeply—whatever he needed, she provided without hesitation. They built a life together, raising a blended family of sixteen children, including the stepchildren my father loved as his very own.

They were once honored. Praised. Given recognition and devotion for their service to others, their sacrifices for the church, and their generosity toward people who often gave nothing in return.

But over time, something shifted.

The very ones they helped turned away. The gratitude faded. And the reflection of rejection began to cast a long shadow over their legacy. I watched my father, Bishop Emanuel Jackson, a man anointed and chosen, give selflessly—building churches, launching businesses, and nurturing families—only to have the keys snatched from his hands. I witnessed my mother carry the weight of being unliked by her own, yet chosen to restore the name of her family.

Now, I understand.

I am not just Kimberly—I am their daughter. And because of who they were and what they carried, I now carry the same mantle. The rejection I face isn’t random—it’s generational. But so is the calling.

It reminds me of the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well. She was overlooked, cast aside, misjudged. But Jesus—rejected by men, weary in His own journey—chose to meet her anyway. He didn’t have to pass through Samaria, but He did. Because He knew she needed a voice, and a drink from the Living Water that never runs dry.

Jesus said, “Give me a drink.” Not because He lacked power, but because He desired connection. And in that moment, her life shifted. Her identity wasn’t found in her past—it was awakened in His presence.

Just like her, I’ve carried the weight of rejection. But I’ve also heard the call. And now, I speak—not just as a woman with a story, but as a daughter with a legacy.

So I rise, not needing to be liked.

I rise because I am chosen.

Because I’ve drunk from the well that never runs dry.

This is The Daughter’s Voice.

A continuation of legacy.

A declaration of truth.

A sound of revival rising from generations who were unliked—but chosen.

By Kimberly Jackson