To my beloved, beautiful, brilliant Black family… scattered across cities, states, hearts, and histories—grace be with you, as well as the peace that surpasses understanding from The Most High God.
I love you, I love us! What a profound blessing to live in this era of our diaspora! Could it be that our ancestors’ shoulders were spring boards… because we’ve launched beyond what they could’ve ever imagined! I’m elated at the sight of our people! We are adorned in excellence, drenched in potential, and called to more!
I see us… I see our achievements clearly! From earning advanced degrees, to commanding high earning salaries. From thriving in a plethora of careers, to writing policies that include how we feel. From our well-traveled passports to villas, resorts, and private beaches with our cohorts. From owning keys to lavish places, our ancestors were never allowed to grace.
We've diligently tidied our finances, investments, and homes with devotion. What a blessing it is to witness the progress of our people.
Yet, one deep concern troubles my heart frequently:
Are we equally committed to reconciling our collective heart condition?
I credit us for recognizing heartbreak in our communities on both sides of gender. There’s many conversations around “healing” in so many different spaces that it has become a popular hot-button topic. I’m also aware, that just because we recognize we need healing doesn’t mean we’re taking the steps to reconcile the pain within us. Heartbreak, left unchecked, breeds rage… and that rage divides us.
Family, have we put as much effort into tidying our hearts as we have into curating our external lives? Is it me, or do we give many other life needs a restart while overlooking a fresh start for hearts cluttered with heartbreak?
I liken many of our hearts to a home hosting Christmas dinner. If you’re a family member or a close friend, when the bathroom in the common area is occupied, the host may grant you access to a bathroom in another part of the home. Often, you might hear the host say, “Don’t mind any of the closed doors upstairs as you journey to the bathroom. I had to store all of my mess in those rooms, because I didn’t have time to sort through it all—to see what I need to throw out and what I need to keep. I only had time to organize the common areas before guest arrived, and I wanted my home to appear as clean as possible. So PLEASE don’t open any doors up there.”
We agree not to open the doors, and after seeing the same closed doors each visit, we accept their stored mess as permanent.
This home represents the condition of a majority of our hearts. We have doors closed on a lifetime of suppressed pain, unresolved anger, resentment, and disappointments we haven’t sorted through. Bitterness hides behind the curtains of our hearts; unspoken grief stuffed in its drawers. Old lovers and ancient wounds share space with the love we swear we’re ready for. But how are we ready for love if the big truth is, we are hoarders of heartbreak?
We're asking LOVE to move in, yet we haven’t created space for it to dwell comfortably. We keep speaking of "forever love," but how can it thrive when surrounded by unresolved wounds we’ve never released?
There’s an inherited division within us. A generational war in our hearts fueled by pain we've experienced and passed down. The gender blame game is a curse upon our bloodlines, turning teamwork into individual isolation. But at what cost?
What good is generational wealth if future generations can't sustain it because they've never witnessed love and respect in their homes? True generational wealth begins with generational love. Love flourishes through consistent affection, compassion in conflict resolution, emotional safety, and demonstrated commitment within families.
Generational heartbreak, conversely, thrives through divisive slander, unresolved anger, and emotional neglect. Our children, who are fertile ground for the seeds we plant, inherit the heartaches we refuse to reconcile. All of us are wise enough to know that whatever we plant will be in the harvest.
So ask yourself honestly:
What if this isn’t about us anymore?
What if our purpose is sacrificial love, creating emotional abundance for those coming after us?
If we're truly ready, we must declutter our hearts. Let's clear out bitterness through genuine forgiveness, consistent therapy, intentional journaling, honest conversations, and communal reconciliation. Let's choose emotional inheritance, making space for love to genuinely occupy and flourish.
Family, our hearts must become homes ready for the love we desperately seek.
Let's heal intentionally, so our love lasts generationally.
I truly believe in us and our legacy as a people in this country. Just as The Most High God moved my heart to write this letter, I pray I’m continuously moved to be a servant in love and reconciliation, as these matters burden my heart! I pray God continues to give us faith that endures, and resilience that overcomes all obstacles in our way.
May God’s glory shine through all of us today, tomorrow, and forever!
Sincerely,
Aaron Abernathy
"true generational wealth begins with generational love", this is powerful, wow.