Updated: Jan 31

I come from a small close-nit family. Most of which is built of women. As far as I know into our family history, there is at least six generations of first born females. Girl Power, Right?

Anyways, we help each other when we’re in need, no matter it being the first, fifth or fifth-teen time. We pride ourselves on our bonds. In most situations, we were all we ever had but that’s what family is suppose to be, right? It’s suppose to be the bond of glue that holds generations together when everything is falling apart.

Thankfully, my great-grandfather, my Papa is still here. Going strong. He is apart of that vital glue that somehow keeps my circus of a family together. I pray everyday, God doesn’t decide to bring him home anytime soon…

The other half of that vital glue was my great-grandmother, my Nana. She passed in 2008 when I was about twelve years old. It still stings almost fifth-teen years later. You see, our birthdays were two weeks apart. Hers, August twenty-forth and mine, August twelfth. That of which was spent in the hospital. She passed September third. Right in-between my Papa’s and Meme’s (my grandmother) birthdays. September first and September sixth.

My family hasn’t been the same since….

You could say my Nana was “one hell of a woman.” She could show you the love of God but somehow if you got out of line, make you wish to meet your maker if it meant not facing her. Committed, radiant, strong, and oh so stubborn; the list could go on describing her. Some of the stories I could tell you, you honestly wouldn’t even believe.

She simply was an amazing soul. Don’t get me wrong, she had her flaws. By the time I came around she had mellowed almost completely out. However, to only be 5’2 she had a igniting temper. Seemly a generational curse passed down.

Pride. Pride seems to be another generational curse passed down through my lineage. Pride and anger seem to go hand in hand. Most of the time, the women in my family are considered headstrong. Simultaneously a blessing and a curse.

What does my family history have anything to do sand? I’ll make it make sense.

Tuesday evening I spent time with my grandmother. I kind of painted a picture for you of what the women in my family portray, the stero-typical grandmothers are especially not the case. I wouldn’t have it any other way though.

Like most people, I have an pretty close relationship with my Meme. There isn’t really anything I can’t share or express. Same with her, with me.

There has clearly been a strong spiritual warfare running throughout my generations. Hope seemingly lost. Everyone having some stronghold pulling them away from God.

The Sandman

We’ve all been officially introduced to the sandman, correct? Let me reiterate. You know that crude in your eyes when you wake up in the morning. Not sure about you but at some point in my childhood, I was told that the crude came from the sand the sandman sprinkled over your eyes to help you to sleep. As a adult, it definitely seems on the stranger side of a explanation but as a child it seemed legit.

I’m not sure where the fable originated or considering my parents grew up in the 80’s’; if it came from the DC collection of comic books and they decided to leave the seven endless out of it (Reference Link – ).

During mine and my grandmother’s conversation that I mentioned prior, she shared a terrifying nightmare she experienced within the last couple of weeks.

She explained the nightmares….

[The nightmare consisted of her barely being able to open her eyes. Feelings as if they were filled with sand. In the dream she was scratching and trying to remove the sand just to be able to see….

At some point during the nightmare she was able to catch an glimpse of two people. My Nana and one of her ex-husbands. Both of which are deceased. As she was calling for my Nana ( her mother) trying to see her more clearly, there was this entity dragging her down. ]

She woke herself and others in the house screaming for help. Even after waking still feeling as if her eyes were sealed shut. Being overwhelmed by fear. Chilling, I know. As she finished explaining the nightmare, you could tell the traumatizing dream had stuck with her and she was searching to find out what you could mean considering she felt as if the devil was after her.

As I listened to her, I felt God speak to my spirit interpreting the dream. Now, I don’t claim to be a Joseph or Daniel from the Bible. Although, I believe, if you hear God speak to you especially in regards to someone else; it is your due-diligence to share.

Instantly the interpretation took over revealing this through my response.

Something (your stronghold) is blinding you and can lead to death. Fear captivating you.

Emphasizing, this did not mean she or anyone relating to this is doomed to physical death in the near future but at least most definitely a spiritual one.

For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. – Romans 8:6

What is your sand that is blinding you causing fear to keep you in bondage?

#Fear #blogger #Blog #MentalHealth #God

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