What is your spiritual connection with your family? Why is it that I feel like I do not belong in the family that I’m a part of? Although I love my mother and father ever since I was growing up or at least from age 8, the first time I experienced spirit I realized that there was a difference in their treatment of me – here was the beginning of my family disconnection. My mother was never the loving kind, I don’t ever recall her telling me that she loved me but then again Jamaican parents have a tendency to do that – at least some or probably most. Yes she did her duty as a mother as she worked hard at making sure that we were always well fed and living in a clean and comfortable home. My father worked occasionally as he did construction but all was well at home – unless you count the beatings that I received almost daily from my father but this didn’t start until I was 10 or 11 years old. Writing about this is like therapy for me even though I had never let it bother my mind.
After all beating children in Jamaica was quite normal and as a parent you would be looked at quite funny by others if you never beat your child even if your child was a good child as I was. In Jamaica, ganja (marijuana) is not looked upon as a drug, everybody smokes it even the police and soldiers and my father was a big ganja smoker. Now that I am older and I analyse all those beatings that I got for nothing I realize that it was from the effect that the marijuana had on my dad and I became his target. Needless to say my shame could not be hidden as I’m very light in complexion and other children would point and laugh at me when they saw me bruised and walking along. As a child I wondered why my never mother stopped him, I mean she never beat us and my younger sister had never even received as much as a tap on her shoulder from him. But the love I had for both my parents had never wavered even though I knew that the beatings I received from my father were unwarranted.
After we migrated to America in which it was the year before my father followed (he followed a year after). During that year while we struggled to settle ourselves in a new country all was well with the relationship I had with my mother. When my father finally joined us it didn’t take a year before he started on me again with the beatings which my mother never stopped. I will not however, continue to remember those times as I still love my father and have forgiven him. I just chalked it up to the marijuana to which he was addicted. My relationship with my parents and my other family members while growing up was like I had no one in the world but me. My older sister who was not my father’s child and dark-skinned despised me because of my skin complexion and she made it known. She felt that people gravitated towards me more than her because she was black and I was light-skinned, which when I think about it was ridiculous. My mother and father favored my younger sister therefore they paid me no mind, it was as if I didn’t exist in the house. After I became a teenage mom my parents told me to leave their house which I had to along with my child and while it was a struggle for me at first I eventually settled down into a good life with a nice thriving business and a family to call my own. I would have thought my family would have been happy for me but they were not and this bothered me over and over again. I will not go into details of how I was treated by my family – sisters, mother, father and all because I have let it go. I only brought it up for the purpose of teaching you the reason why some families are disconnected from each other. It is important for you to know that before you come to this earth you choose your own family.
The soul/spirit chooses the parents and it is through that lineage that you are born. Whatever the reasons why those parents are chosen remain locked with the soul. When I look upon the treatment I received from mine, I wondered why I had chosen them. It was not until I went to Africa for my initiation that I was told the reason through divination by my godfather who is a Babalawo (high priest). I learnt that I chose my mother so that my spirit would be able to assist her in this life. This is how I assisted my mother, she came to earth to be spiritualist to do the type of work I am doing now. She came with great powers of her own but because of the shame and stigma in Jamaica of being labeled an Obeah woman she rejected it. In order for my mother to have had a normal life on earth someone strong had to come to take over what she was rejecting on earth. That person was me The reason I chose my father was again to assist my mother because eventually in their latter years he would have been the one with the strength to assist her when she could not help herself. Spiritual people often times have a very strange relationship with their family because even though we are physically related spiritually we are not and so the frequencies cross and it affects how we treat each other.
You will find the mother giving up the child not wanting anything to do with it and the child growing up to be one of the biggest prophets, priests, or bishops ever or the mother who hates and abuses that child and the child growing up to be Oprah, Barrack Obama or anybody who will or have contributed to society. Most of these people have had horrible childhoods, some worse than the other. There is wisdom here one that is far vaster than the human mind can comprehend. There is a quote in the bible that says ‘the stone the builder refused shall be the head cornerstone’ (Psalm 118:22) and that has been proven over and over and over again from the beginning of time. For those of you who are reading this and have had complicated relationships with your family or your parent(s) and have always wondered why, come and let us reason. We will be having an open discussion on this topic when I post it so all and everyone who visits this site may discuss any complicated relationship you have with your family, or if you just feel like you don’t belong, or what ever the case may be. Share. It could be therapeutic.
“A child who fears beating, would never admit that he played with a missing knife”…….Yoruba Proverb.