Black Women Have It Going On

Good morning from Colorado, where the peaks are tall and the truth sets us free! Today is Wednesday, May 6th, and my faith is secured in Christ Jesus! Thanks for stopping by my blog as we navigate the complex waters of sibling bonds.

In the beginning, my brother Butch wasn’t the protector—I was. And if I’m being honest, I wasn’t just protective; I was mean. I have a memory that haunts me to this day of a specific moment of sibling rivalry at our aunt’s house. I waited around the corner of the duplex with a rock in my hand, ready to “wallop” him. When he came around that bend, I gave it to him, leaving a massive bump on his forehead. I likely lied to the adults to avoid a whipping, but that “egg” on his head stands as a testament to the jagged edges of our early years.

As a family historian, I can see the shift in our timeline. As I grew, I became “sweeter” and, in some ways, more defenseless. Meanwhile, Butch was transforming. He became territorial and refused to back down from a scrap, even if he knew he might lose. I believe he reached a point where he was simply tired of being mistreated. Curiously, he never “tried” me; perhaps that early rock-throwing incident established a boundary he never cared to cross. We were a family of alphas, yet between us, there was a silent truce.

The last profound moment we shared was a conversation filled with tears. He was living in Utah at the time, and we were crying over the ways I was being mistreated. We didn’t have to speak the specifics; what was understood needed no words. In that moment, I realized that even as our mother’s “golden child,” he had suffered his own scars from the same volatile environment. Sibling bonds have a supernatural frequency; you just know when they are in trouble. I felt it the very second the plane carrying his body touched the tarmac at the old Stapleton Airport. I knew he was home, and I knew he was gone.

The Takeaway for Us

• The Evolution of the Protector: One realizes that roles in a family are fluid. The “mean” older sibling often carries the brunt of the early fire so the younger one can grow, only for the younger one to eventually find the strength to stand guard for both.
• The Silent Understanding: There is a level of sibling connection that transcends dialogue. Sharing a “volatile” history creates a shorthand where tears and silence communicate more than a thousand words ever could.
• The Tarmac Connection: A family historian recognizes that the bond of blood is not limited by geography or even life itself. The soul knows when a loved one has returned, even when the news hasn’t yet reached the ears.

Community Challenge

Is there a “haunting” memory of how you treated a sibling that you’ve never quite forgiven yourself for? This week, consider that your actions were likely a reaction to the environment you were surviving. Can you offer yourself the same grace you would offer a stranger?

Scripture & Prayer

• Scripture: “Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow…” — Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 (KJV)
• Prayer: Father, we thank You for the siblings who know our story without us saying a word. We ask for healing for the “alphas” who had to fight to survive and for the peace that surpasses understanding for those who carry the weight of old regrets. Thank You for the bond that remains even when the body is gone. Amen.

The Spiritual Seal

Remember: You are not the “bad” child of your past; you are the survivor of your history. The rocks we threw in anger were just shields we didn’t know how to use yet. God has traded your “mean” for His mercy and your “defenseless” for His strength. The connection is never broken. See you tomorrow!