My name is Candace Liebertz, and I was born in Florence, Oregon. Raised in Hillsboro and Roseburg, Oregon

Today, I serve as the cofounder and executive director of Galia Recovery Homes, a place built from both personal experience and a deep commitment to helping others find stability, hope, and healing.

 

As I grew older, I discovered a calling in supporting individuals who face some of life’s most difficult challenges. My path was not without obstacles—there were moments that tested my strength and shaped who I am today. Each of those moments, however, became fuel for the work I do now.

 

Founding Galia Recovery Homes was more than just starting an organization; it was about creating a safe space where people could reclaim their lives. As executive director, I dedicate myself to building programs that honor the dignity, resilience, and potential of every person who walks through our doors.

 

Looking back, my story is not only about the challenges I’ve faced but also about the passion that keeps me moving forward: helping others discover their worth, rebuild their lives, and step into a future filled with possibility.

 

 

My story begins in Hillsboro , Oregon, but my childhood was far from simple. At just one year old, I was taken from my parents and placed in the care of my aunt and uncle. My aunt struggled with her own emotional instability, and she often played painful games with my emotions. Those early years taught me confusion and instability when what I really needed was safety and love.

 

By the time I was eight, my mother and new stepfather regained custody of me and my siblings. Unfortunately, what should have been a new beginning became another dark chapter. My stepfather was a pedophile. At eleven and a half, I found the courage to tell my mother what was happening, but the damage was already deep.

 

Like many children carrying wounds too heavy to bear, I tried to numb the pain. By thirteen, I was already smoking, drinking, and experimenting with ways to cope. That same year, I became pregnant. My mother took me to Texas, where she divorced my stepfather and opened a bar. I was allowed to drink and play pool freely, and by the time I reached high school, addiction had already begun to take root. I struggled academically, eventually dropping out in 11th grade.

 

At seventeen, I married. By then, I was a full-blown alcoholic and an IV meth user. My marriage was marked by broken trust, infidelity, and rage. I carried the weight of my childhood trauma into my adulthood, and it showed up in every part of my life. Despite the chaos, I gave birth to two boys, but I also experienced several abortions during that time, each one adding to my grief and guilt.

 

Later, I remarried and had three more children. Raising five children was far from easy, but it became my purpose. By God’s grace, at 23 years old, I encountered Him in a real way, and at 25, I gave up drinking and drugs. I committed myself to raising my children in Georgia, where I became active in church and began living with a sense of hope.

 

But life wasn’t done testing me. One day, my husband — who had been the father figure in our home — snapped. He developed paranoid schizophrenia and multiple personalities, and in his illness, he turned violent. He attempted to kill us, and after being placed in a mental institution, he escaped three different times to come after us. Eventually, the state of Georgia intervened and sent me and my children back to Oregon for safety.

 

Back in Oregon, I hoped to find support from family, but they were trapped in their own addictions and couldn’t help me. With nowhere to turn, I ended up homeless, living in a tent in a small town called Mill City. My children were taking into custody for stealing bicycles and eventually were placed in foster homes. I dug through trash cans to collect cans and bottles, cashing them in to buy more meth. Addiction had me in its grip once again. Soon after, my children were removed from me, I spiraled deeper into homelessness and substance abuse.

 

 

When my middle son graduated from high school in Mill City, he looked at me and asked me to please try to regain my life somehow. His words stuck with me. I went back to my aunt’s house, hoping to start over. But instead, I fell back into old patterns. I met a drug dealer, and before long, I was in Beaverton, still using. One day I was pulled over by the police and found with a small bag of meth in my possession. That arrest changed everything.

 

While I was in custody, a woman came into the jail and asked if I wanted to go into treatment. Without hesitation, I said yes. Deep down, through all my struggles, I had always wanted my family to be put back together. I knew I couldn’t do it on my own.

 

After treatment, I entered a Christian recovery home. There, I began to heal—spiritually, emotionally, and mentally. God was undoing the lies I had believed since childhood and replacing them with truth and hope. Six months into that program, I met my husband at a meeting. He had a background of prison and recovery himself, and he carried a deep passion to help men who had walked that same path. Together, we realized that what our community desperately needed was clean and sober housing—a safe way for people to rebuild their lives.

 

We started small, opening one home, mentoring those who lived there, and walking alongside them in their recovery. When that home filled, we rented another house, raised up another mentor, and kept going. Agencies began calling us, asking if we had space for people who needed help. Before we knew it, the vision God placed in our hearts had grown far beyond us.

 

Today, that vision is known as Galia Recovery Homes. We now operate 17 homes and continue to grow because the need is so great. We work closely with four counties and two states—partnering with drug courts, mental health courts, and facilities including Columbia River Mental Health, Clackamas County Drug Court, Multnomah County programs, and the wider Tri-County area in Portland.

 

My daughter is now the certified recovery Mentor For Galia Recovery Homes. My son-in-law helps with the organization and my oldest son who lives in Kentucky governs our website and my other two sons in Georgia are living happy lives with their wives and children.

 

What drives me every day is simple: I know what God has done in my life. He lifted me from addiction, brokenness, and homelessness and gave me purpose. And I believe He wants the same hope for every person who walks through our doors. My husband and I are committed to offering that hope, one home, one mentor, and one life at a time.

 

Today, I live each day with gratitude—for my recovery, my family, and the opportunity to bring hope to others. Through Galia Recovery Homes, my husband and I continue to create safe spaces where people can begin again.

 

Thank you 

Candace Liebertz