There are seasons when the phone will not stop ringing, when the air itself feels sharpened by menace, and the body learns a new language called vigilance. In such hours, the temptation is to harden, to strike back, to protect the tender heart by becoming stone. Yet the holy way is often the opposite: to keep hands open, to keep speech clean, to keep the inner posture unarmed. When fear gathers like storm clouds over a kitchen table, the most radical act is honest prayer—naming weakness without shame, naming the edge of endurance without performance. At that moment I experienced the presence of the Divine as I had never experienced Him before. From that Presence comes a voice that does not flatter, but steadies: stand for what is right; stand for justice; stand for truth. Not as a heroic mask, but as a human being held from within. Then dignity becomes a shield, and nonviolence becomes strength with a listening heart.
May the Holy Presence steady the trembling places, and turn fear into faithful love that refuses to harm.
Let courage arrive softly,
like dawn through curtains,
and let mercy keep watch,
until every threatened heart
remembers its strength.