I received my Amazon link for my Amazon Profile page, for my newly published book and my future books!
My Family Prayer Book (Written by Michele Aponte)
A complete collection of personalized prayers organized by spiritual focus, created with intention, faith, and love.
This book contains prayers for spiritual warfare, family covering, and personal healing, along with scripture references and space for reflection.
(Inspired by Psalm 23, Isaiah 43, and Romans 8)
I walked through fire with no one beside me,
The smoke of betrayal still thick in my lungs.
I cried out from shadows too heavy for morning,
Where the voice of my past sang war songs unsung.
Chains once disguised as affection and duty
Wrapped tight ‘round a soul born to fly.
I bent under burdens I wasn’t meant carrying—
And asked God, “How long must I try?”
But the Lord, He was near in the silence,
A whisper that broke through the rage.
Not with thunder or lightning or earthquakes,
But with love that unlocked every cage.
He led me through rivers that should’ve drowned me,
And stood in the flames at my side.
He saw every scar I tried hiding—
Each tear, each truth I denied.
My past didn’t die—it was buried
In the tomb where my Savior once lay.
And I rose with Him, bruised but breathing,
With grace as my song every day.
Now peace isn’t quiet—it’s power.
It’s the strength to say “No” and to rest.
To guard what God gave me so gently,
To silence the chaos and bless.
I fight for this peace like a soldier.
My home, my mind, my soul—my land.
And the armor I wear is His promise:
That He holds my whole life in His hand.
No weapon formed has destroyed me.
No lie has erased who I am.
I am more than my battles and burdens—
I am loved, I am chosen, I stand.
So I dwell in the house of His presence,
Where fear has no voice, no control.
And I drink from the cup of His stillness,
Letting joy overflow in my soul.
He restores what the locusts have stolen.
He redeems what the devil once used.
I am whole, I am held, I am healing—
By the peace of a God who won’t lose.
A Psalm from the Fire
There are battles I remember,
And wounds I’ve forgotten how I bled.
Pain buried so deep in my marrow,
Even I lost the trail where it led.
Some scars were born in silence,
Where no one stood watch but God.
And some were wrapped in memory’s haze—
Still, I rose from every fraud.
I have been lied to, pushed down, forsaken.
I’ve carried burdens that weren’t mine to bear.
They told me, “Be quiet, be useful, be nothing,”
But I stood in the ashes and dared.
I forgave what tried to destroy me,
Even what I don’t fully recall.
Because peace isn’t passive or gentle—
It’s choosing to stand when you fall.
Someone I love has become a storm,
Not by choice, but by torment and flame.
And though their anger lashes like lightning,
I no longer shoulder the blame.
I see through the chaos they carry,
The pain they won’t speak but still throw.
But I will not be their battleground—
This time, my soul says, “No.”
I’m not who I was in the beginning—
The scared girl, the shattered wife.
God has rebuilt me in silence
And breathed resurrection to life.
This peace I possess is a fortress.
It’s been carved from surrender and flame.
No demon, no rage, no betrayal
Can shake the foundation I claim.
Because I walk with the Lord as my shelter.
His name is my shield and my song.
He has counted each tear that I’ve hidden,
And He’s made right what’s been wrong.
So let the winds howl if they want to.
Let the past claw for a place in my soul.
I am covered in mercy unending—
My story, redeemed and made whole.
I am unbroken. Still standing.
Even when trembling inside.
For the peace that surpasses all reason
Is the place where my spirit will hide.
A Dream of Boundaries and Unexpected Paths
This morning, I had a vivid dream that rushed back to me after I stepped outside. It started with my neighbor selling a piece of land we’d been trying to buy. Someone built a big purple house on it, facing my direction instead of the street, and I remember feeling annoyed that we missed out on that opportunity.
Then, I noticed kids cutting through my yard and my neighbor Mr. T.’s yard, playing in the street. We both fussed at them for crossing our properties. That’s when I saw the new mailbox and house, and I asked Mr. T. why he sold the land. He said he only sold a piece of it, and the house — pretty but purplish-blue — had been built there.
Later in the dream, I ended up helping one of the kids, taking them to a big complex that felt like a school. Edwin was with me, helping every step of the way. While trying to ensure the child got inside safely, I asked to speak with management. At first, they refused, but after some persistence, they found someone for me. The strangest part? They unexpectedly offered me a job — a role that seemed to carry a lot of responsibility. I wasn’t looking for a job, much less something like that, and I woke up feeling confused.
Reflecting on the Dream:
This dream really feels like a message wrapped in emotions and symbols. The land sale and the house might represent missed opportunities or things happening outside my control. The kids cutting through my yard could symbolize boundaries being crossed — whether that’s emotional, spiritual, or physical.
Helping the child and navigating the complex made me think about how naturally I step into a protective role, even when it’s unexpected. And the job offer? Maybe it hints at opportunities I haven’t seen coming yet — a sign that sometimes life nudges us toward new paths, even when we aren’t actively seeking them.
In my waking life, I’m struggling with balancing my desire to work part-time with wanting to be there for my grandkids. My heart wants to help, so they don’t have to go to daycare or be with strangers. But at the same time, my kids are grown, and I shouldn’t have to put my life on hold. Maybe this dream is my spirit wrestling with that balance — standing my ground, protecting what matters, and figuring out what my next step should be.
Life has a way of showing us things we need to see, even in our dreams. I’m still sorting through what this one means for me, but I know one thing: my heart is being pulled toward both protection and purpose, and I trust that the right path will become clear.
Have you ever had a dream that made you stop and reflect on where life is pulling you?
Exploring the Meaning Behind My Dream: The Chickens, the Man, and the Fear
Last night, I had a powerful dream that’s been on my mind ever since. In it, I saw eight dead white chickens lined up in a half-circle on someone else’s porch, with three or four live chickens walking around nearby. The sight of the dead chickens left me feeling unsettled, and I called my son, David, to come over and see what I had discovered. As we looked, I noticed a mysterious man inside the house, his arm visible through cracks in the door or window. The moment I saw him, fear washed over me, and without hesitation, David and I ran away from the scene.
At first, I didn’t understand the depth of this dream, but after reflecting on it, I began to uncover its meaning. The dead chickens and the eerie scene on someone else’s porch sparked a sense of unease, and I realized that this dream is connected to emotions I’ve been processing—fear of external challenges, concerns for others, and a deep need for support.
External Concerns and Challenges: The fact that the chickens were on someone else’s porch suggests that the worries in my life might not be directly tied to me but are affecting me emotionally. I might be aware of external problems or challenges that feel unsettling, even if I’m not directly involved. It reminds me of being impacted by things that happen outside of my immediate space or control.
Empathy and a Need for Support: When I called David to help me understand the situation, it showed my instinct to turn to family for support. It highlights my deep need for reassurance, especially when things feel uncertain or scary. I’m reminded that I’m not alone in facing challenges.
Hidden Fears or Threats: The mysterious man visible only through cracks might symbolize hidden fears or unresolved issues. It suggests that there may be things in my life—either external or internal—that I’m only partially aware of or haven’t fully confronted yet. The fear I felt when I saw him might reflect my anxieties about things I don’t yet understand or can’t control.
Symbolism of Separation and Boundaries: The fact that the porch wasn’t mine indicates a sense of detachment or separation from the issues at hand. It’s a reminder that while I may witness struggles or be affected by them, they may not belong to me directly. I need to recognize the difference between my responsibilities and the boundaries I need to set.
This dream stirred a lot of emotions—fear, uncertainty, and a desire for protection. It brought to light my instincts to help others, even when I’m not sure how to intervene. I’m learning to recognize my limits and focus on what I can control while also protecting my peace.
Reflecting on the dream has reminded me of the importance of emotional boundaries and trusting the support of my loved ones. It also encourages me to pay attention to external forces or hidden issues in my life that may need attention or resolution.
Has anyone else had dreams that brought up emotions you didn’t realize you were carrying? I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Navigating Life’s Emotional Collisions: A Dream Reflection
Last night, I had a dream that left me reflecting on the complexities of family and the emotions we carry as we guide those we love.
In my dream, I was riding in a car with Wayne, a former coworker from my past job. For reasons I can’t quite explain, we were headed somewhere, and the car got into an accident near the back of a building. As we waited for things to settle, I saw an old colleague, Lauren, and started talking to her. Wayne mentioned he was just going to follow the other party home, and I immediately warned him to call the cops. I knew from experience that not involving authorities could cause trouble down the road, especially if the other party didn't have insurance. My son, who was also there, explained the insurance issue too, as he'd faced a similar situation before. I tried to share wisdom from past experiences, but in the end, it was up to them to decide how to handle it.
Afterward, I went inside and spoke to Lauren about something unexpected: I was pregnant. In real life, this couldn’t be true, but in the dream, it symbolized something deeper. I felt like I was carrying an emotional weight — the weight of my children’s lives, their struggles, and the choices they have to make. We talked for a bit before I woke up, with the weight of it all lingering.
As I reflect on this dream, I realize it might not just be about me. It might be about my children and the emotional crossroads they’re facing in their own lives. They show a tough exterior, but underneath, I sense their sensitivity. I feel responsible for them, even though I know I can only advise and guide them. They must make their own decisions, and sometimes it’s hard to step back when you see them struggling.
This dream served as a reminder that while I can offer wisdom, my children must choose their paths, even if it means making mistakes along the way. It’s hard to carry the emotional weight for them, especially when I can’t always see the full picture of what they’re going through. But I trust that, in time, they will find their way, just as I trust that the love and support I offer will always be there, no matter what.
Dream Interpretation: A Journey of Protection, Faith, and Abundance
Last night, I had a dream that left me with so many thoughts and emotions. It started in a corridor, surrounded by buildings, where I was walking on top of cars without a care, though I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was going to be scolded for it. The dream then shifted to a fire marshal and firemen coming through, inspecting for fire hazards. They found an excessive amount of toilet paper under a house — something I’d stored because my home was overflowing with it. I explained, "We shop at Costco; we always stock up on everything."
The dream then moved to a cousin’s house, where a child started a fire in a field. I quickly jumped into action, trying to put it out, recognizing the risk it posed. But as the fire grew, I couldn’t stop it completely. Eventually, I found myself back in the building, talking to a lady and then a gentleman who asked if it leaked in the shared living room. My response was sarcastic: "It floods out here." The conversation drifted, but something on a cabinet caught my eye — a plaque with the number 100, glowing with goldish numbers on a dark background.
The number 100 stood out so clearly that I woke up with it on my mind. I prayed for clarity, and as I reflected, I felt like there was a deeper message in all of it. Here's what I think God was revealing to me:
The dream was a reminder of my role as a protector and provider for my family. The feeling of walking on cars without consequence suggests that I’m navigating through life’s obstacles with faith, even when I fear judgment. The fire hazard warnings and the excessive toilet paper under the house remind me that preparation is key — spiritually and emotionally. Just as I stock up on toilet paper, I am trying to ensure my family is spiritually covered and cared for, especially in uncertain times. The fire in the field that I tried to stop is a reflection of my desire to shield my loved ones from any risk, even when things start to get out of control.
The number 100 felt like a promise from God. It represents completion, abundance, and fulfillment — reminding me that my prayers are heard, and that I am on the path to seeing God's promises come to fruition. It's a reminder that even when things seem overwhelming, God is at work and His blessings are on the way.
I believe this dream was an affirmation of my prayers for protection, peace, and abundance for my family. It reminds me that I am not alone in this journey and that God sees every effort, every step, and every prayer. The dream encouraged me to keep my faith strong, knowing that God is fulfilling His promises.
As I reflect on this, I am reminded to continue praying and trusting in God's timing. No matter how overwhelming things may seem at times, I can rest in the peace that His plans for us are good.
A Dream, A Battle, and the Power of Prayer
Last night, I had a dream that left me feeling drained, yet peaceful. I dreamt I was in the midst of a spiritual battle, one that felt all too real. I was trying to protect my beloved chihuahua, Theo, as I moved a truck, but he had crawled under it, and I feared I might hurt him. I struggled, paralyzed by the thought of causing harm to what I love, and eventually made the decision to move the truck, all while hoping and praying for his safety. It felt like a long, heavy moment, one full of tension and a desperate desire to do right.
Then the dream shifted to an overwhelming scene where I was confronted by something dark and unsettling. A figure, like a paper cut-out of a stick man in a suit with a white face, kept following me, making faces that caused fear and dread. I tried to call out to Jesus, but my words were stuck. I couldn't speak, and it felt like I was trapped in a spiritual struggle. The weight of fear was suffocating, but I kept trying to call on His name, even though it was hard to get the words out.
This dark figure felt like a manifestation of fear, an attempt to silence my faith in the midst of trials. But in the quiet of my heart, I was still fighting, even when it felt like my voice had been taken from me. I eventually woke up, feeling numb but not fearful — drained, yet peaceful, as though I had faced something, but God’s presence had carried me through.
Later in the dream, I found myself in a backyard that wasn’t quite as I remembered it, surrounded by a sense of responsibility to care for a baby I didn’t know and a chicken I saved from the pool. In a way, I was nurturing life, trying to protect and revive it, even when it seemed impossible. I saw that baby and knew I had to take care of it, just as I had to care for the things God has entrusted me with — my family, my animals, my faith.
This dream was a reminder that, while I can’t control everything, I can pray, and in that prayer, I have the power to fight against fear, darkness, and despair. I’ve been praying hard for my children and my husband, asking God for His protection, guidance, and peace. I feel the weight of their struggles, but I know that my prayers are powerful, even when I can’t see the immediate results.
In this season, I hold tight to the promises found in Scripture — knowing that God hears my prayers, even when it feels like I can’t find the words. Psalm 119:125 says, “I am Your servant; give me understanding, that I may know Your testimonies.” I trust that He’s guiding me, showing me how to pray, and giving me the strength to keep fighting spiritually for my family. Psalm 91 reminds me that “He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.” I find comfort in knowing that God is covering my loved ones, even when the battles feel overwhelming.
Sometimes, our greatest battles happen in the unseen, and all we can do is pray, trust, and hold onto His promises. I pray for peace, for protection, and for healing, knowing that God’s strength is greater than any fear or darkness that may come our way.
If you’re struggling with something today, know that you’re not alone. Keep praying, keep trusting, and remember that even in the most intense battles, God’s love is your shield.
A Quiet Struggle: Finding Peace Amidst Distance and Distraction
For almost two weeks, I've been in a quiet but deep struggle with my husband, Edwin. It’s like a silent rift that’s been growing between us, and it breaks my heart. I pray—earnestly, with all my heart—and I wait. But it feels like the more I pray, the more distant we become. All I want is to see him here, present with me, enjoying the life we’ve built. Instead, I find his face consumed by his cell phone, and my own heart consumed by the absence I feel.
This morning, something strange happened. As my alarm went off at 6:40 AM, I felt and almost saw a figure move swiftly out of my room. It was a blur, a shadow, but I could tell it was something or someone. My heart raced as I called out for Edwin, like a question, almost pleading. But there was nothing—only silence, and the sound of the dogs leaving the room. I turned off the alarm and started my morning, realizing Edwin was at work and everyone else was still asleep.
Just a few days ago, I had another strange moment. As I was waking up, I clearly heard someone call my name—loud enough that it felt like they were standing right next to me. The voice sounded just like Edwin’s. I knew it was his voice, but I was still alone.
The Spiritual Interpretation: A Deeper Look
These experiences could be explained in different ways, but I’m leaning towards a deeper, more spiritual explanation. In a time of emotional distance, I wonder if God was speaking to me, trying to wake me up, to remind me that I’m not alone in this struggle. It could be a sign of divine intervention, or even my subconscious reflecting the heartache I’ve been feeling.
The voice calling my name and the blurry figure—could it be that I’m receiving a wake-up call, not just from Edwin, but from something greater? Perhaps it’s a reminder that I need to shift the energy around me before things can change. A small nudge that I am seen, that my prayers are heard, even when nothing feels different.
The Addiction of Distraction
I’ve realized something—Edwin’s phone isn’t just a phone. It’s become an addiction, a barrier between us. Each time I try to bring it up, he shuts down. He becomes more distant. And the more I stay silent, the more distant I feel. It’s not just a phone—it’s a way to escape. And I don’t think he even realizes it.
It hurts to think of how disconnected we’ve become, especially when all I want is for us to enjoy the life we’ve built in the woods, surrounded by family and the simple joys we share. But it’s hard to hold that space when I feel invisible, when I feel like I’m talking to someone who isn’t really there.
The Path Forward
As I try to move forward, I know I need time to process. I’m not sure what the next step is, but I can’t keep carrying the weight alone. I need to find peace, even if things remain unresolved for now. I’ll try to shift the energy, to create moments of connection that don’t directly address the phone or the silence, but instead focus on us—on the love we have and the life we’re still living, despite the distance.
I also need to trust that my prayers are not wasted. Even when I don’t get immediate answers, God sees my heart. And though it may take time, I believe things will shift. Maybe not in the way I expect, but in a way that leads to deeper healing and connection.
A Call to Others in Struggle
If you’re going through something similar—feeling disconnected from your partner or loved ones—know that you’re not alone. Sometimes, the greatest healing comes not from forcing change but from allowing space for growth, for peace, and for patience. Let’s hold on to hope, knowing that even when things feel quiet, the heart’s prayers are heard.
I received my Amazon link for my Amazon Profile page, for my newly published book and my future books! amazon.com/author/maaponte My Fami...
