I thought the past was behind me after my husband’s passing. Not gone, perhaps, but distant. As a town abandoned long ago—a place that appeared on an old map yet no longer held any power over the living. Then, one night, a beautiful melody drifted into the room by accident. Suddenly, I was no longer […]
The Distance Between Then and Now Read More »
I once believed the past was a shore. A place I had left yet could somehow return to if I sailed far enough, remembered it well enough, or grieved long enough. One evening, as the melody of The Past drifted through the room, I realized that time is more like a wave that never reaches
The Shore That Never Was Read More »
Today marks the second anniversary of his passing, and my world has never stopped bleeding around the empty space he left. I am forever trapped in guilt and self-blame. Every heartbeat is a cruel reminder of what I couldn’t save; every tearful breath a betrayal of his memory—I don’t know how I’ve survived. Life is
Soft as Starlight, Endless as Love Read More »
I watched “Somewhere in Time” for the first time last night. It is far more than a love story. It touches something ancient in the human soul — the mysterious longing for a connection that feels older than time itself. In a modern world dominated by speed, the film quietly asks whether love is merely
A Love That Time Could Not Erase Read More »
Every day, people die—quietly or loudly, young or old, known or unknown, from illness or tragedy, at the hands of others or themselves. However, time continues—the sun rises and sets, the moon wanes and returns. Stars keep shining, and nature seems indifferent to human life. Yet with each passing, a space is left that cannot
How Loss Lingers While Life Goes On Read More »
Brittlebush is one of the most common spring wildflowers in the Arizona desert, especially around Tucson and Phoenix. During the intense summer heat, its leaves dry out and fall off, leaving behind brittle, lifeless-looking branches that blend into the tough desert landscape. Yet, with the return of mild winter rains, the brittlebush awakens. Fresh silver-green
When Brittlebush Finds Its Place Read More »
Lately, I’ve been seeing more posts about loss from suicide — each one a scream into the void — the deepest, most unbearable sorrow a human heart can bear. After a suicide, the world feels arctic. A particular cold settles in, not just the absence of a person but the absence of answers. Conversations freeze
Love, Even in the Cold Read More »
This can be a sensitive subject, especially for Christians who believe that the ongoing war with Iran might be justified. Sincere believers can hold different opinions on these issues. Some view war through the lens of national security or as a “just war.” Others focus on the human toll and find it difficult to reconcile
Echoes of Humanity in the Shadows of War Read More »
I reflect on the days of unbearable pain after losing my husband. I felt like someone drowning in a vast ocean, reaching desperately for any blade of grass drifting by, hoping it might keep me from sinking. In that endless water, even the smallest trace of hope felt like a miracle. In the midst of
Blades of Grass in the Ocean Read More »
I came across photos I took at home of the incredible sunset I pass each evening — a sky spilling gold and fire. Yet something unsettled me: even the most breathtaking beauty cannot fill the loneliness, leaving it distant and almost untouchable. If you are asked this question: would you choose a horizon painted gold,
Fire in the Sky, Silence in the Heart Read More »
