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Because of My Mother I am No Longer Afraid

When I was a teenager we lived in a low-income apartment complex out in Winburn in Lexington, KY. I had many experiences there, some good (like the birth of my little sister Obadiah), and some bad, (like the theft of my 13-inch TV and my brand new stereo). Before Obadiah was born, my mother, brother and sisters Ranavalona, Titusleta, Onierita and I moved around quite a bit. After the divorce we lived like Gypsies. I had grown up in a great family oriented middle-income mixed neighborhood, and my whole world slowly started dissolving at the age of eight when my parents realized that they could no longer make their marriage work. By the age of twelve, my Mom and my siblings and I were on the road and heading south to be embraced by her parents and loads of kin.

Lexington was a brand new adventure for me. Everything seemed so big and pronounced in this city compared to the small lakeside community in which I had been raised. One night after all the lights had been turned off in our three bedroom apartment, and I had settled into the rhythm of a good night’s sleep, I found myself conscious of my self as I lay sleeping beneath me. I was rising slowly up out of my body. As I hovered overhead I became aware of a distinct sound. One that I wasn’t sure of. Many voices whispering and clicking. A language of communication in a tongue so fast, that I could not comprehend it. I became scared and began to internally question the foundation of my fear. As soon as I verbalized these thoughts in my mind, my spirit self decided to reunite with my body. It felt as if an elastic cord had been holding me to me, and when I began to consciously process thought that cord snapped and yanked me back to myself. Up until that point, I had always played the role of the brave confident oldest child, rarely crying out for Mommy or Daddy. But as soon as I felt the shock waves emanating from my chest from the pressure of entering back into my body so quickly, I knew what I had to do, and that was to scream out for Momma.

“Mom, Mom!” I cried. It had to have been well after midnight, but my mother came running and burst through the bedroom door.

“What is it, what is it,” she demanded. After I described my out of body experience she turned on the bedroom light and looked around. She asked me if I knew where my bible was. I told her I did. She then instructed me to get it and put it under my pillow. As long as I had my bible, then the Lord would protect me and I no longer had a need to be scared. I was fifteen then, and thirty-six now, and to this day, whenever I feel as if spirits are watching, trying to reach out to me or whenever I awake with a start from a painful out of body sensation, I slip my hand under my pillow and I am immediately comforted by the Lord’s presence there. Thank You Mom!

Nefertiti
08/29/09

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