There will be a season when you have done all you know to do and still, nothing. No answer at the door. No sudden change. No sign in the sky telling you that tomorrow will be kinder. Just you, your unanswered prayer, and the strange silence that makes you question whether God is still listening. He is. Do not mistake silence for absence. Some of God's deepest work happens without making a sound. Roots grow in darkness. Healing happens beneath skin. Morning begins long before the window knows there is light. And somewhere beyond what you can see, your life is being moved by hands you cannot follow. So do not abandon your faith because you cannot trace God's footsteps. You were never promised a clear view. You were given enough light for the next step. Take it. Even if your knees shake. Even if your heart has questions your mouth is afraid to ask. Take it. Faith is not a life without uncertainty. It is waking up with uncertainty beside you and refusing to let it choose your direc...
Life descends upon me
as if my name carries a hidden indictment,
a sin whispered into the marrow of my being
Before I learned how to stand.
Each dawn arrives already sharpened,
prepared to wound without explanation.
There is a secret ache lodged within me,
a quiet inhabitant of flesh and bone.
It burrows deeper with each passing day,
unbaptized by mercy,
teaching my body the vocabulary of suffering
one pulse at a time.
I ask why until the word thins to breath.
It rises toward Heaven,
only to fall back upon my chest,
unanswered,
as though the sky has chosen silence
as its final language.
My prayers gather like unsent confessions,
stacked at the altar of waiting.
I kneel daily, voice frayed,
wondering if God is listening
Or if faith is simply learning
How to endure being unheard.
Still, I do not abandon the floor of prayer.
Hope limps, but it remains.
My soul stays open,
not from strength,
but from exhaustion that refuses to die.
I ask now only for mercy
not clarity.
For healing
not absolution.
For ease
a gentler weight upon my days.
And if You hear me, God,
let this be enough:
to soften what hurts,
to steady what trembles,
and to grant me the grace
to survive this life
without losing myself.
© 2026 Gloria Penelope
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