Hanny Gompana

She never cried!

Her eyes were red
Her face was swollen
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In the quite hours of the evening's grace she seeks a love that time cannot erase
A Love that is not bound by fleeting moments or desires
A Love that is like a gentle warmth which lights the dark
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In a world where shadows blend with light,
She was born beneath a star so bright
In halls of lavishness where dreams take flight
Her heart was full of Hope and guiding light
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In a cozy home where joy everywhere, 
Live a husband and wife, as different as can be, 
They share the same space, yet see things apart, 
Each with their own view, their own kind of art.

He looks at a painting, thinks it's a gem, 
She sees a jumble, with chaos at the end, 
They both see the same thing but in different ways, 
Finding their truths in their own unique gaze.
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In a cozy home where life felt fine,
A change was coming, by design.
From one state to a land afar,
She moved to The Pearl of the Orient, like a shining star.
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In halls of care, where kindness flowed,
A mother's heart with love bestowed.
With gentle hands and endless grace,
She made the world a brighter place.
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What is prosperity but a glittering mirage,
a promise of abundance that tempts us to chase after fleeting wealth?

Does the word of God, in its ancient wisdom, merely echo with the promise of riches,
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In the quiet of her mind, a storm brews deep,
A whirlwind of choices, some awake, some asleep.
She stands at the crossroads, unsure where to go,
As the weight of her past is all she knows.
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A Tribute to an unsung hero

We grew in a house where silence spoke,
Not in warmth, but in words left unawoke.
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Happy Mother's Day! ! ! !

She's the best mom in the whole wide world,
A storyteller, with wisdom unfolding.
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These past few days have been hard. The pain feels constant, and I can't bring myself to share it with anyone close. Parents are too old to be troubled, sibling already has her own struggles, and I don't want to add more weight to anyone's shoulders. I have turned to God, not because it's easy, but because He's the only one who fully understands what I can't say out loud. His words echo in my heart again and again: "My grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is made perfect in weakness."

I will be honest, I have been upset, wondering what "sufficient" really means when I can barely hold myself together. But even in the pain, I notice small mercies like moments of rest, enough strength to cook, to clean, to pray, to breathe. Somehow, I keep moving. Somehow, He keeps me. It doesn't mean the pain is gone, but it means I'm not alone in it. And that gives me hope that His grace truly is sufficient, even now, even here, even in this. Therefore I say with confidence and gratitude: Yes, His timing is perfect, and His grace is truly sufficient for me.
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