One of the many ways God speaks to me is through my dreams. It is one of my favorite ways because I have so little to do with it as far as control or messing it up. He often tells me what He is doing or about to do through them. He also warns me of what is soon to come through them as well and I just love it all. Talk about Holy Intel!
One such dream went like this… In the dream, I would look at the palm of my hands and then as I looked, I could see that the pads of my fingers were bruised. So, using the other hand, I would squeeze the pads of each of my fingers and thumbs one by one. As I did this, lots of little needles, like the size of sewing needles, would protrude out and I would remove them. I was happy to remove them, it was fun, even. I did each of my fingers and thumbs until all the needles were removed. Weird dream right?
I sent it to Gary Fishman, who interprets dreams. Gary said that the needles represented words and negative things that people have said about or to me that have gotten under my skin and held me back in various ways. Removing them represents my gaining freedom in those areas.
Of course, this was amazing news to me but here’s what Gary didn’t know at that point. Two people, an adult woman and an 11 year old girl, both prophesied over me recently that God was healing me in various ways, not just physically, but emotionally and other ways as well. Then, I had that dream. Also, something else happened.
One day, after I returned home from visiting family and friends in the DC area, I sat on my bed, looking at pictures of my son that my beautiful Debbie took and sent me.
Here’s where God got all up in it. I admired Debbie’s work first. She is an amazing photographer, among many other things and my boy is a ham. Then, I admired my son. He’s quite adorable, right? Then, God highlighted his complexion, but He didn’t stop there. I looked at my son and saw the beautiful hues under his brown skin, the orange/yellowish highlights and before I could form a thought, God began to play a short movie in my mind. There were various scenes from my childhood. Being called names by classmates who didn’t deem me dark enough. A scene from my dark skinned cousin and I playing together and him shouting, “I’m the Black Avenger!”, after which, I yelled, “And I’m the Brown Hornet!”, then, out of nowhere, my dark skinned grandmother comes rushing into the room, got in my face and said, “No. You’re the brown nothing. That’s what you are, a brown nothing!” She left my cousin and I confused as we were way to young to comprehend what had happened. Of course this didn’t stop me from letting my mom know that I was a brown nothing when I got home that day.
All that was a lot, but God wasn’t finished with my little movie. Then I saw, countless times that others around me were deemed chocolate beauties, while I stood back watching it all. I learned to appreciate dark skin. I have always loved dark skinned people and could easily see their beauty where others couldn’t, but here’s what also happened. When I looked at my hand or in the mirror, I didn’t look like them. I wasn’t so “chocolate”. So, I learned that they are gorgeous, beautiful people and me, well, not so much. I just didn’t measure up. Then God showed me a few more scenes. One was of me and a dark skinned friend who I thought far more beautiful than me, holding hands, sitting on the floor, chanting, wishing to magically change and be each other’s complexion. She was tired of being called black and I just wanted to be beautiful like her. I needed to be darker. Then, I saw the astonished look on my boyfriends face as my tiny grandmother practically dragged him into the house upon first laying eyes on him. He was a beautiful chocolate boy, so immediately, he was approved.
So, God showed me all this, and then, He began to play scenes from times where I was complimented by friends and others about my complexion and I all but dismissed most of them because what I’d learned first, from the people most important to me, stuck.
Then, I saw myself just a few weeks ago, at a cookout. It was said that there was a gorgeous chocolate little boy there. When I saw him, I gasped, he was in fact gorgeous. Then, still needing some sort of twisted approval, I made sure to mention that not only had I seen the boy, but I agreed that he was beautiful. I got my nod of approval but when it didn’t feel good, I dismissed it. When God showed me that scene again, which occurred not even two weeks ago, I sat on my bed and cried. I had let others issues with themselves affect and infect me to such a degree that I thought nothing of myself. I thought nothing of the beautiful complexion He chose to give me, nothing at all. I took on others’ issues as if they were my own and I owned those issues, unknowingly, for decades.
I repented and thanked God for newfound freedom. I looked in the mirror and studied my beautiful skin and appreciated it like never before. I’m right in the middle. I’m not dark skinned and I’m not light skinned, but what I am is absolutely, perfectly beautiful. I looked and looked for that gorgeous boy at the cookout when I had a gorgeous boy right there at the table with me- my son!
So, I’m done taking on issues that aren’t mine, and I am praying fervently for others with these color issues because really, it’s stupid. I apologized to my brown husband for telling him that he’d better know that I married him for love, because he’s not dark enough. I have also apologized to my children and told them they no longer have to watch what they say about their complexions around certain people. I am released from that bondage. Beauty comes in so many different shades and hues. I am grateful to God that I am now free in this area. I take to heart Galations 5:1 which says- “Stand firm therefore in the liberty by which Christ has made us free, and don’t be entangled again with a yoke of bondage.” I am free and will remain free. Hallelujah!!!