Neglected Love

By Juanita Cunningham

Young Saniyah was lost, broken, and discouraged. She wanted to be in the music videos and model because she thought it would complete her. She had several opportunities to sell out to darkness at the age of 18. However, God had a different plan, he loved her too much to lose her to the devil. She was never taught the proper standards in how to c

• Language: English
• Publisher: Neglected Love LLC
• Release date: Sep 21, 2020
• ISBN: 9781636849904

Book preview

Chapter 1.

The Awakening

My name is Saniyah, I am brown-skinned, 5’3 athletically built, and I enjoy playing sports. At the age of 16, I discovered a truth that I didn’t know existed. At this time in my life, it was very important to my Mother that we understood who Jesus was. I always felt a higher authority did exist, but I didn’t quite understand why the members of the church were screaming and shouting, jumping up and down until their wigs went flying across the room. As a teenager, to me, this was like having front row seats to a comedy show. I didn’t know much about God. Going to parties, watching the latest music videos, dating, and hanging out with my friends were my utmost important activities. I went to church because my mother told me to. I was baptized because my mother scheduled the baptism. I was expecting something to change physically even after the pastor dipped me under the water. However, I felt the same as I did before it happened. I remember being soaked, the water was cold, and he asked me if I would receive Jesus as my Lord and Savior? I was always taught that yes is the answer, so I said yes". After it was over, some other people were baptized that morning as well. We went into the backroom, dried off, got dressed, and prepared to go back into the sanctuary before the service began. Being in the Baptist church, I saw that it was very organized – the ushers wore white gloves, the mothers of the church sat in the front row with their fans, and the deacons sat up front on the other side of the sanctuary. The pastor wore a robe and he always had a glass of orange juice in the pulpit on the podium stand. I was always taught that water helps dehydration however, I didn’t fully understand his preference for orange juice. I’m not insinuating anything, but I guess that was his preference. All I know is that after preaching, he would sweat profusely as if he had just come out of the shower.

The congregation would yell Amen! whenever he elevates his voice. During worship, we had a mass choir and I was a part of the team. I enjoyed singing; it gave me a calmness and peace of mind. I remember fighting sleep most of the time when we attended that church; though I managed to wake up every time I heard the pastor say, the doors of the church are open. Excitedly, I arose in a rush to figure out what I was going to do after service. Sometimes we would visit my grandmother’s house for a Sunday dinner, or we would go back home.

During this journey, my Mother – Sheila – was trying to build a spiritual foundation for my brothers and I so we went from church to church. Mom had her own reasons why she left certain churches. It was always just the fourof us and at most times we all went together but at other times, we did not. We began visiting my Aunt May’s church; I enjoyed her church the most. Aunt May started her ministry in the back of her salon. My cousin, Lynn, lead the praise and worship team. She had such an angelic voice, and I loved to hear her sing. My Aunt was very open to the things of the Spirit of God as my Mom would say. They would also host events for the youth, which made me more interested in being a part of the church. I was on the praise-dance team and I remember one Halloween night, they decided to allow the youth to minister to the congregation. Instead of it being a Halloween celebration, they called it Hallelujah night. They asked all of us if we wanted to preach, and I decided to preach a signature message. I was nervous and excited at the same time. Inside, I wanted to say what I truly meant from my heart but another part of me was concerned about what my Mom would think if she knew certain truths about me. My life was far from perfect. I had the same pressures to perform just like any other teenager did. I was curious about a lot of things at that moment in time, I also dated a guy named Nick who often came to church just so we could see each other.

Earlier that day, I sat in one of my teacher’s – Mr. Edison – classroom longer than expected because he taught me and a few other students about the bible. I was also preparing my written speech for later that night. During that time, it was so exciting to hear about God, the different experiences that took place, and how much God loved me. Mr. Edison was a substitute teacher that attended a large ministry at the time. He called me and the other girls beautiful, but it was not in an inappropriate way, it was pure and genuine. He seemed to be a great Dad to his children. He was so interested in hearing how our day was going; he would make sure we kept our heads focused on our books, and he would always give us a late pass to go to our next class whenever our bible sessions went over the appointed time. Sometimes, instead of eating my lunch in my classroom, I would eat in his classroom so that he could teach me more about the Lord. I remember telling Mr. Edison that I had to preach later that night and I could see the joy, and the excitement of a proud Dad light up in his eyes. He looked at me and said, I know you will do just fine, I’m so proud of you. After hearing those words, I remember feeling like I had a great mission to fulfill as if I had to be the best that I could be. Mr. Edison was like a special type of father figure to me; he would often communicate on our psychological level and he knew what to say to me whenever I felt like a failure or felt confused. He showed great concern for my studies and my emotions.

It was the end of the day right before the bell rang, my notes were prepared, and I was excited to go home. Sometimes, I would catch the bus to my brother’s home and my Mom would pick me up from there. That day, after she picked me up, I was ready to give my speech, but I felt nervous at the same time. I had butterflies in my stomach, I was not sure if this was a good sign or just my nervousness speaking louder than my excitement. That night, I was not completely sure what the outcome would be. While we were on our way to church, I was looking for my notes in my bookbag. I rambled and searched every pocket until I realized that I had left them in my locker at school. I panicked; I was extremely lost in my thoughts, worrying if I could remember what I wrote down. As I retraced my steps, I wondered to myself How in the world could I leave something so important? I stopped and remembered what Mr. Edison said, you’ll do just fine. This helped me to calm down and focus. I said to myself, God, whatever you want me to say, I will say.

We arrived at church while Lynn was singing, and her voice brought chills to my spine. My aunt preached briefly; she didn’t want to take up too much time because she knew it was our youth night. A few of the other teenagers went first, and all I could think about was, what am I going to say? Nick was sitting next to me, but he wasn’t in the program, he just attended to be my biggest supporter. That night, I wore a business suit and heels as if I were going to a corporate meeting. The time came for me to speak but I don’t fully recall my message, it was so long ago; all I remember is that I was preaching as if I had my notes with me. To my greatest surprise, everything I said just flowed well. The congregation was engaged, and I felt like a natural at preaching. I remember feeling good after I finished speaking, and I thanked God for helping me deliver the message. I could tell that my Aunt and my Mom were proud of me. My Mom seemed shocked that I was still determined to preach without my notes.

Since I was 5 years old, she always told me that I was a natural on the stage. She would write poems for me to speak, and I would memorize and recite the entire poem to the congregation. Even my Dad, Todd, didn’t believe that I could pronounce certain words my Mom wrote but I loved learning and I enjoyed the challenge. If someone told me that I could not do something, I would try ten times harder just to prove them wrong. At that age, I had a natural drive within me to succeed.

As time went on, we continued to go to my Aunt’s church. One night at Bible study, she preached a message titled, Jesus is coming. At the time, I didn’t fully understand if she was saying that Jesus was coming within the hour or the next day or the next couple of months. All I know is that her message moved me in such a way that I decided for the first time, on my own, to go to the altar for prayer. She would often open the altar for prayers, backsliding, or re-dedication to Christ. When I went to the altar, I said to Jesus, I receive you! I meant it with all my heart, and I felt his love and presence upon me. I had a very peaceful sleep later that night.

The following morning, I did not feel like going to school. I admit, I lied and told my mom that I was sick. She didn’t bother to investigate. She said, Okay Saniyah, you can stay home. Whenever I was sick or pretending to be, I would always sleep in my parents’ bed. I was the youngest sibling so to me, it always felt good to be in my parents’ bed. When I was normally sick; laying in their bed always felt like the beginning stage of my healing process. I also thought their bed was so much more comfortable than mine. Honestly, I was also a little spoiled. After my Mom went off to work, I fell asleep and dreamed about a woman dressed in white with the face of my Mother. A storm suddenly came and shook the house, so I immediately jumped up in the bed and began to pray – still within the dream, the woman dressed in white told me not to pray but sit down. I knew something was different so I said to myself, My Mom would never tell me not to pray. This is not my Mom! Suddenly, I felt afraid and woke up from the dream but as I glanced at the ceiling, a vision in a bubble-like figure appeared. I