When Giants Walked the Earth

February 18, 2024

By Nicole


I lie on my back in awe as my elder’s words pour into my earlobe, draining into the canal and dripping into the insides of my heart. I am in awe that these things haven’t been previously shared and, after so many decades, now are. My eyes become enlightened with this new understanding as tears threaten to spill. How could it have taken this long to discover the mysteries of my bloodline? 

I don’t know the answer, but I do know that at this moment, I’m being entrusted with a precious gem.

Much of my family’s history is buried by an invisible hand, entangled in the old “Don’t ask, don’t tell” mindset, or, “Do as I say, not as I do.” That belief system has been the soil for planting horrific occurrences such as incest, domestic abuse, or, at minimum, the repeating of the previous generation’s mistakes by the next.

I’ve had to piece together much of my family history, having little contact with my father’s side and a somewhat distant relationship with my mother’s. But Holy Spirit desires for us to know our past. It is that age-old adage, how can we know where we are going if we do not know from which we came?

For years, I’ve coveted friends whose family histories have lain blatantly in reach. The tightness of their living loved ones staunchly hugging them on all sides: children, parents, aunties, uncles, cousins, and the like. My calling was not that. Instead, it was to pull forth a legacy of those I’ve never met. 

Or, maybe we met, but they vanished into glory all too soon.

But sometimes the not having makes the receiving more beautiful. Click To Tweet

It is easy to take for granted what you’ve always had. You treasure that first taste of bread when you’ve been hungry for days.

My grandmother was a phenomenal woman. She set out to sow into me much of what she had not been given. My mother did the same. But both women had their demons to fight, and the fallout wasn’t pretty. I’ve been selected to tell their stories since my own is so intertwined, and so I thread them throughout this little blog, along with my current memoir. 

Yesterday, more puzzle pieces were offered, which aided in my understanding of my grandmother’s choices. In case you haven’t realized this, you are affected by your ancestors’ decisions. What Grandpa Joe did three decades ago is swimming along the chords of your DNA, figuring out how to manifest that same exact thing. Don’t believe me? I challenge you to analyze the last three generations. What were their occupations? How were their relationships? What were their flaws or strengths?

Over the years I’ve become privy to some of my ancestors’ mistakes as I’ve walked out my own, but yesterday, I learned some good things too. Apparently, my great-grandmother was a business owner. Yes. A Black woman in the 1970s, just on the heels of the Civil Rights Movement, owned her own business! She was the co-owner of a nursing home. This woman not only obtained her RN and LPN, birthed four children, and owned her own home with land, but she had a business too (Can you say Proverbs 31?)! In that moment, I understood even more of what I’ve been called to: wealth, ownership, authority. This was why God had positioned me as He had.

It was my destiny to re-capture what was lost.

I did not miss the timeliness of this new information, given it’s Black History Month. African American men and women have contributed significantly to this country and yet, historically, have been snuffed, ignored, or, sadly had the credit outright stolen from them. Their witty inventions were barely mentioned in history books when I was in school, and today, those same education systems are facing the banning of Black-authored or racially charged books. Thankfully, my grandmother took the liberty of introducing me to folks like Garrett Morgan, who is the very reason we stay safe from potential car collisions a whole century later by his invention of the traffic light. Mr. Morgan was also the first Black man in Cleveland to own a vehicle, just in case you were wondering.

Having to dig for info at the library to learn my heritage taught me that if you’re a person of color in this country who wants to know their history, you must search it out. You must work for it. It won’t be handed to you.

In my adulthood, I’ve also learned that if you want to build something lasting, you must look back.

I’m in a season of building. I’m building a legacy of faith, hope, and love for this generation. And, similar to America, it is being built on the backs of my ancestors. 

The backs of those once unrecognized.

The backs of those once overlooked.

Those are the real giants who walked the earth. 

And look at what they accomplished, even amidst unprecedented, brutally heartbreaking, oppression.

Imagine what you can do today.

In other news…Did you know that I just dropped my debut novel When Love Wins? You can check out more here! This time around there is an audiobook in addition to the eBook and paperback versions. Make sure you are subscribed to my email list to catch special offers, discounts, insider information, and more!

Are you on Instagram/Facebook? If so, please reach out. I have a series called “Word of the Day Wednesdays” where I share 5-10 minutes worth of nuggets that are on my heart, which I hope are encouraging to others on IGTV/FB Live! I have these also posted on my Youtube Channel.

And, lastly, if you have read “Stories for the (Urban) Soul, please put up an Amazon review here. I was SUPER encouraged and blessed when a new reader put up her review for my 2nd book which you can view here :).

As always, thank you for your support!

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